


The One Where They're Demigods

by amtrak12



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2013-10-28
Packaged: 2017-12-29 11:11:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 32,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1004742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amtrak12/pseuds/amtrak12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eleven year old Myka Bering is the outcast of her fifth grade class. When a new kid shows up on the last day of school, he brings with him a mythological monster and Myka learns why she's never fit in with the "normal" kids. Inspired by Percy Jackson and the Olympians by Rick Riordan. Written for the Warehouse 13 AU Week on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The New Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series (the books) because I read the original five a couple of months ago and couldn't stop thinking about Warehouse 13 during it. :s I did make some changes from the canon setting because I had too much fun fleshing out the non-Poseidon cabins. This will be six chapters long. All chapters will be posted by the end of this week (by 10/19/13). They're complete. I just have some editing/rewriting to do before posting. Many thanks to ohthesefeelingz (Maria) who is my awesome beta who thwaps me on the head when I get dialogue crazy and eff up the pacing. <3 Hope you guys enjoy!

Myka Bering did not want to be at school. 

Yes, that's right. Myka Ophelia Bering, the most brilliant kid in the fifth grade class, wanted to be anywhere but at school. Strange until you realize today was field day. Field day was what her school called the last day where instead of lessons and assignments and all the normal things a school should do, all the classes played games and competed in races. It was essentially one long recess complete with picnic lunch.

Myka hated recess. Recess was only fun if you had friends to play with, and Myka had no friends. She was tall and gangly with wild, curly hair and thick-framed glasses. She'd been diagnosed with dyslexia when she was five and struggled when she was forced to read out loud to the class. Yet, still, she scored the highest grades every year. The other kids hated her.

Her teachers had never helped with this. They either praised her too much for being so smart despite her disability or they eyed her suspiciously, half-certain she was faking her troubles with reading. Both reactions only added fodder to her classmates' bullying.

So Myka kept quiet. When she zoned out (because she always zoned out during class; she couldn't help it, her attention just drifted elsewhere), she did her utmost best to do so by doodling on her paper and not staring about the room. It was difficult to train herself to do, far more difficult than training herself to sit still and not raise her hand to every question. Her desire to see everything going on in the room was so strong - no, not desire. It was a need. A burning need that had existed in her gut for as long as she could remember. If she couldn't see every person in the room, if she couldn't know what each person was doing at every moment, she became anxious for reasons she couldn't pin down. Her father had lectured her over and over how silly it was to be anxious. Nobody was going to hurt her when her back was turned, nobody was plotting against her. She was simply being paranoid and childish. These lectures never calmed her. For one thing, there was a sharpness in his tone like the words strained him to say. For another, it was abundantly obvious her father had never survived grade school. The taunts and pokes only ever happened when her back was turned.

Home wasn't any better. Her father hovered and made demands and her mother (step-mother, honestly) sometimes looked at her with a strange mix of fear and pity. Myka would work hard to follow the rules and be good only to get in trouble for something as simple as checking the mail. When faced with bullying that followed a particular logic and parental lectures that seemed utterly random, Myka found she preferred the bullying. And as the school bullying died down over the years to basic teasing on the playground and only then, when it was too cold or wet for her classmates to do anything else, Myka found school even more bearable. By fifth grade, the children had largely settled into ignoring Myka, and Myka hid from the loneliness by focusing on her grades and memorizing her history book.

Field day didn't allow for a person to hide with history books. It drug a person out kicking and screaming to make them socialize with the other children. Field day was not bearable.

"I pick Myka."

Myka sighed and shuffled off to the left side of the gym. Now, she was being forced to play dodgeball, and what's worse, Sam had chosen her first for his team. He actually expected her to play. That was her fault really. She'd made the mistake in P.E. a few months back to show that she was actually quite athletic. During that game, she had become the last one in for her team, and three dodgeballs were thrown at her at once. What else was she supposed to do, but catch one of the balls while ducking the other two? She hadn't even had time to think about it, she'd just done it. She'd been able to bring a teammate back in for catching the ball, and her side went on to win the game. Ever since then, Sam thought of her as some sort of dodgeball guru, a trump card for victory. It was miserable.

"Just lay low right now. If we get picked off too early, we'll need you to catch throws and bring us back in."

He didn't need to tell her that. Myka knew their strategy for dodgeball. It was the same strategy every time. The only reason it worked was because the other team never targeted her. No one else in their class had been able to let go of their idea of Myka the Weirdo for these games and therefore, couldn't conceive of her as a threat. That was always her advantage.

The first game was an easy slaughter. Myka hadn't needed to do anything but stand in the back and sidestep a couple of times to avoid stray balls. But the tides turned in the second game. Most of the balls went to the other team right away and Myka's was stuck trying to defend themselves. It wasn't their strong suit. They lost half their team in the first minute.

Myka kicked into action then, looking for throws to catch, tugging teammates out of the way of an incoming ball - though no one seemed to appreciate that form of help. She fed balls to Sam, easily the best thrower in the class, but the other team was also aware of this fact, and it only painted a bigger target on Sam. A ball finally knocked him out when Myka was chasing down another on the other side of the gym. Myka was the last one left.

Sam didn't look upset at being knocked out. He just clapped and cheered her on, fully expecting her to catch a throw and bring him back in. Myka looked across the gym. The other team had one ball and four people left. The rest of the balls were on her side. She set the ball she was holding down on the ground and watched the other team.

A lot of shouting filled the gym. She's not allowed to hoard the balls, she needed to pick the balls up and throw out the other team. Everybody had an opinion except for Sam who continued to cheer without direction, blindly trusting his champion dodge ball player.

Myka tuned everything out and kept her eyes on the four still opposing her. She could see every movement they made, could sense their growing impatience to get on with the game. Katie, the other team's captain, held their single ammunition. Katie was impulsive. Myka could out-wait her.

It didn't take long for Katie to break. Just seconds later, she took aim and launched a line drive at Myka's knees. She'd purposely made it difficult to catch. Myka would have to dodge it.

Except dodging it would still leave the game four on one, and Myka knew once she started throwing the balls, the other team would launch them right back. She'd be out in moments.

It took a quarter second from the time Katie released for Myka to drop to the ground just to the side of the throw. She reached out for the ball and snagged it as it came sailing past her head. She rolled to her back and held the ball up in the air.

"That doesn't count! She's on the ground!"

"The ball didn't touch!"

The teacher blew the whistle. "You're out, Katie."

Katie stomped off the court as Myka clambered up to her feet. She looked over at her team on the sidelines. Sam was already standing up, ready to reenter the game, but a kid in the back caught Myka's eye. He was bouncing on tiptoes, arm stretched high, saying "Ooo pick me! Pick me!" It was the new kid, the one who - strangely - had just shown up today for their last day.

She wouldn't be able to explain it later (the boy would say she had a vibe, but Myka doesn't remember any special thought or feeling she had at the time), but something compelled her to nod her head and say, "Okay."

Sam stopped in his tracks. "What?"

"I pick the new kid," Myka pointed.

The new kid whooped and bounded over. Sam looked shocked, but Myka didn't get a chance to apologize before he walked back off the gym floor. The new kid grinned at her.

"I'm really good at dodgeball."

"Then why were you sitting out already?"

The boy grinned wider. He held out his hands, asking for the ball. Myka surrendered it, though her brain was catching up to her actions and was questioning her choice to bring this kid in. Why hadn't she just brought in Sam like always? Sam would have been a much more reliable choice if they were going to win the game.

The remaining three opponents were getting antsy without any balls to their side and were calling at them to throw. The new boy responded by rearing his arm back and letting the ball fly. It was a speeding bulls-eye to one of the girl's stomach. She was out before she even realized he'd thrown. The boy on the other team dashed over to grab the ball before it rolled back across the center line. The new boy was ready with another ball and hit the kid in the shoulder as he bent over.

It was two on one now. The momentum was back in their favor. Lauren, the last one standing on the other side, realized this and didn't make for a ball just yet. She eyed the new kid wearily.

So the new kid could throw. Had Myka seen this out of the corner of her eye earlier? Had her subconscious taken note and prompted her to bring him back in the game instead of Sam?

The boy lined up his aim again and threw. Lauren jumped out of the way and again, didn't go after the ball. It hit the wall and bounced off to the side of the gym. The boy picked up another ball. They only had two left. Another was resting near the center line, maybe near enough to tap over. The rest of the balls were deep into their opponent's side.

This wouldn't work. Lauren was just going to use Myka's tactics and either catch a throw or dodge every ball until they were out. They needed to do something different.

"What's your name?" Myka asked. The new boy halted his throw.

"It's Pete."

"Pete," she repeated. "Don't throw yet."

She thought she saw him frown at her, but she had her eyes locked on Lauren. She crept over to their other ball and kept watch that Lauren wouldn't suddenly throw at them. But Lauren didn't seem eager to act until she knew what Myka was doing. Good.

Myka picked the ball up. She glanced at Pete and hoped he would understand the signal. "Hey, Lauren," she called out. She threw her ball, high and arcing, towards the other side. Lauren looked confused but moved to get under it. It was an easy catch for an out, a give-me. Lauren didn't have a choice. "Pete!" Myka yelled, but the ball had already left Pete's hands. He'd thrown it so fast, she hadn't seen. Lauren definitely didn't see, her eyes still trained on Myka's ball. Pete's throw hit her square in the leg.

The teacher blew the whistle. "That's game."

Myka's team cheered. Lauren had been hit by Myka's ball too after being startled by Pete's. Pete laughed and turned to Myka, hand raised.

"Nice one," he said. Myka hesitated a second, but then reciprocated the high five. She gave him a small smile.

"Okay, switch sides. Bring all the balls back to the middle," the teacher said.

"Ready to win again?" Pete asked. Myka's smile widened.

"Try not to get out this time."

************

Myka and Pete played together the rest of field day. Well, in truth, their whole class played together as the activities were always some kind of group effort, but there was an extra level of awareness between Myka and Pete after the dodgeball game. Myka noticed that Pete hung back in the activities, too, never volunteering, never showing much effort until put directly in the spotlight. It was also clear, whenever he made the effort, he was an above-average athlete who could have been in any JV sport he wanted. But he didn't talk much to the other kids, and Myka couldn't tell if it was because he was new or because he was shy.

He didn't talk much to Myka, either, but he sat with her at lunch and ate her cookie (he asked first). In the afternoon, they were lined up next to each other during the 400 meter race, and he nudged her and grinned like they'd been best friends all their lives. The acknowledgment fired up some sort of competitiveness in Myka. She sized him up, realized she was almost an inch taller than him, and decided to put her long legs to use for this race.

"Remember, guys," the teacher said. "All the way around the track."

The whistle blew and the six of them on the line took off, spraying black cinders from the outdated track in their wake. Pete was sprinting, like the others, and pulling away. Myka ran a bit behind him, waiting to see if he'd slow up.

He did, at the halfway mark, about fifty meters after they'd lost the others. None of them could sprint a full lap, and the other kids had gone out too fast. Myka smiled and sped up to overtake the lead.

Pete groaned when she passed him. He pushed to stay up with her, but could only hold on for a few more feet. Myka laughed and ran on.

She rounded the curve, cinders giving way briefly to overgrown grass until she was clear for the homestretch. Her legs and lungs burned. Footsteps crunched behind her, so she knew Pete hadn't fallen too far behind. Still, it was a surprise when he pulled up by her shoulder and then inched ahead. Myka pushed her legs into an all-out sprint where it didn't feel like she had control of her limbs anymore. Pete did everything he could to match her, and, neck-in-neck, they hurtled through the final meters, fighting not to die first.

Then, Pete fell back. Just an bit, but it was enough for Myka to know she had the race. She refused to ease up, though. Pete was still too close and the finish line was just _there_. She could rest on the other side of it.

Her foot pounded over the line scuffed into the cinders. Pete crossed less than a second behind her.

"Nice job you guys!" the teacher said. "Seventy-one seconds, Myka. Impressive!"

Myka panted and doubled over. Pete tumbled to the ground and flopped over on his back. The other kids in their race were back at the curve. One of them had even stopped to walk.

Legs feeling like rubber, Myka turned and walked over to Pete. He shaded his eyes against the sun and looked up at her. She grinned.

"I beat you."

"You cheated."

"What? I didn't cheat!" Myka sat down on the track beside him, because while she hadn't cheated, she had definitely used up all of her strength. Standing was too much work when she was still catching her breath.

"You ran on the grass."

"Because the grass had grown over the track."

Pete mumbled something else with the word "cheat", and Myka grinned again. She walked the toe of her foot over to nudge his arm.

"I beat you," she sang. Pete stuck his tongue out, and she laughed.

"Off the track guys," the teacher said, making Pete and Myka drag themselves over to the grass. "We need to start the next race."

************

Myka was exhausted by the time she climbed onto the bus to go home. She'd never tried so hard at field day before. She collapsed into a seat near the front and set her bag on the floor. Pete sat down across the aisle, much to her surprise.

"You ride this bus?"

"Today I do." He was looking out the window. He cringed at something and sunk low into his seat. "Uh oh."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Pete said. "I just stayed too long."

Myka frowned, not able to make sense out of that. The bus pulled out of the parking lot. As they drove down the main road, Pete craned his head around to look out the window behind them. After a moment, he turned back forward and looked more relaxed.

Myka let him be and pulled out _Treasure Island_ from her backpack. The jostling of the bus made her dyslexia worse, but she was determined to read. She was three-quarters of the way through the book and wanted to finish it over the weekend.

Twenty minutes later, the bus stopped in front of the Bering & Sons bookstore. Myka marked her place, grabbed her bag without bothering to slide the book in before, and got off. She heard the bus driver say something behind her and turned around. Pete stood in the doorway talking to the driver. The words were muffled by the sound of the bus engine, but it looked like Pete was trying to get off the bus with her. Pete nodded at something and hopped down the steps. The bus driver caught Myka's eye and waved before closing the door and driving away.

Myka looked at Pete. "What are you doing?"

"Going home with you," Pete said.

"What?" Myka's eyes grew wide. "No. No, you can't do that," she said, shaking her head. "My dad will be really mad because I didn't ask first."

"So we'll ask him now."

Myka shook her head. "He'll still be really mad."

Pete glanced around like he was searching for something. "Well, can we at least go inside?"

It was sunny and hot on the sidewalk, and Myka wasn’t allowed to linger outside. So she said okay and led him into the store. The bell rang overhead as they entered.

"You live in a bookstore?" Pete asked.

"I live above a bookstore," Myka corrected. "It's my dad's."

Pete walked towards a shelf to trace a hand over the spines and then wrinkled his nose. "Do you have any comic books? I like those better. More pictures and superheroes."

Myka huffed and walked through the store to find her dad. She spotted him coming out of the back store room.

"Dad," she said.

"Home from school?" he greeted. "Tracy's bus came and went already. She's upstairs eating a snack. Go on up and you can get one too."

"I'm not really hungry," Myka said.

"Ooo, I am," Pete said, stepping into the aisle with them. Mr. Bering frowned at him.

"Did you bring a friend home with you?"

"I didn't bring him," Myka said. "He followed me."

"Followed you?" This made Mr. Bering narrow his eyes more. "Just who are you, son? Why are you following my daughter?"

The sharp tone seemed to stun Pete. He didn't answer right away and when he did, the words were mumbled. "She let me play dodgeball."

"What? Dodgeball?" Mr. Bering glared.

Pete shuffled his feet. "At school," he added.

Mr. Bering still didn't look pleased. Myka knew she'd be in trouble for letting Pete stay. She should have made him go to his own home. Her dad had forbidden her from bringing people over without permission ahead of time.

"Please Mister ..." Pete stopped like he was searching for a name and realized he didn't know one. "Myka's Dad, can I stay? I swear I'm a good kid, and I can be really quiet, too. You won't even know I'm here. Except, I kind of eat a lot, but I don't have to eat. I can stop eating and be really, really quiet, I swear."

Mr. Bering held up his hand. "Why do you want to stay so badly?"

"I don't want to go home yet."

"I can see that, but why?"

"Because I can't yet."

"Why not?"

"Cause it's not safe," Pete said.

Mr. Bering stared hard at him. "What do you mean it's not safe at home? Why not?"

"Um, because," Pete fidgeted. "Because… … nothing. Never mind." He shook his head. "I was making it up, I'm sorry. I'll leave." He turned and walked away, feet dragging as if he really dreaded leaving. Seeing the back of his t-shirt still sooty from the track and an even dirtier backpack slung across it, and knowing he was the new kid at school and possibly in town, all made Myka's stomach drop and she looked up at her father.

"Please, Dad."

Mr. Bering called out to Pete to stop. He walked over to the boy and put his hand on his shoulder to direct him to turn around. He spoke low to Pete, just out of earshot, and his manner was gentle, more gentle than Myka had ever seen or known her father was capable of. It made her squirm and look away.

After a bit, her dad asked a question loud enough for Myka to hear. "Who are you?"

"I’m Pete."

"I know that, but who are your parents?"

Myka focused hard to hear the conversation now. It was important for her to know who Pete was, too, if he was going to be her friend.

"My mom's name is Jane Lattimer. I don't know my dad's."

"You don't know who your father is?"

Pete shook his head.

Mr. Bering stood up straight and beckoned. "Come here." He led Pete over to the register and pulled out a book Myka recognized by the cover. It was a book on Greek mythology and one of the only books she didn't get in trouble for reading when she was supposed to be working. She had her own copy of it up in her bedroom. Mr. Bering opened the book to a certain page and showed it to Pete.

"Is this what you saw?" Mr. Bering asked. Myka wandered closer to see what they were looking at.

"Almost," Pete said, examining the picture. "But the one I saw was way scarier."

Myka could see the image of some bird-snake creature with two heads, but didn't get a chance to decipher the title of the section before her dad snapped the book shut.

"And where'd you last see it at?"

"Back at school. I was on the bus before it found me."

Myka was confused, but Mr. Bering nodded. "Alright, you'll stay here for now. Myka, show him upstairs. Tell your mother I'll explain later."

Myka and Pete were both surprised.

"And neither one of you go near any windows," Mr. Bering added. "I mean it."

"Dad," Myka said with a flush. It wasn't the order - Myka was usually forbidden from going to the windows - but that her dad had given the order in front of a guest. It was embarrassing. She wasn't entirely sure why she wasn't allowed near windows or what her parents were afraid of. They seemed to expect her to attract someone's attention one day, someone dangerous.

"Yes, sir." Pete nodded like this command made perfect sense to him. Well, at least Myka didn't have to feel embarrassed, though she was becoming more confused by the second.

Myka and Pete went upstairs to the Bering apartment and met Mrs. Bering and Myka's younger sister Tracy in the living room. Tracy was sitting by a large pile of certificates and stickers that were probably end-of-the-year awards she'd won and wanted to show off. Jealousy flared within Myka.

"Who's this?" Mrs. Bering asked.

"Pete," Myka said. "Dad said he'll explain later." Mrs. Bering, of course, looked concerned at this.

"Are you Myka's boyfriend?" Tracy asked with a mischievous grin.

"Um... no," Pete said.

Myka didn't want to deal with Tracy, so she turned and walked off to her room without another word. Inside her bedroom, she took off her backpack and located her Greek mythology book. She began flipping through the pages, searching for the bird-snake picture. She wanted to know what her dad and Pete had discussed.

Pete walked in and halted a step later. "This is your room?" He sounded incredulous, and Myka assumed he was staring at her collection of books. The volume of her collection was enough to stun anyone even if they didn't know about her dyslexia. Myka was rather proud of it.

She found the picture of the bird-snake and stared at the title. It was a long strange word filled with a lot of vowels, but Myka knew what it was supposed to say.

"You told my dad you saw an Amphisbaena?"

"An amphis-what?"

Myka held up the book and pointed to the picture.

“Oh,” Pete said. “Yeah, back at the school.”

Myka frowned and glanced down at the picture and then back at Pete. “These aren’t real. They’re a mythological monster. You can’t have seen one at the school.”

“Well maybe I didn’t, but I definitely saw something a lot like it.” Pete got on her bed and crawled over to the bookcase at the head of it. “Are any of these comic books?”

“No,” Myka said. What was with this kid and comic books? What was wrong with regular books?

“Dang.” He sat back on his heels. “And your dad really doesn’t sell any downstairs?”

“No, we only sell real books.”

Pete didn’t get defensive and try to claim comic books were also real books. He just became sad. “Oh. I’m not good at reading real books.”

To another eleven-year old, this statement wouldn’t have much of an impact. It might make that child feel sad too, maybe they'd try to comfort Pete by saying books were dumb or by naming a subject they were personally bad at. But to a dyslexic Myka, this statement held a potentially big meaning.

“What do you mean you’re not good at reading?” she asked.

“The words get jumbled up when I try. Well not words, the letters.” Pete looked around the room and pulled up a bit of her bed cover to twist in his hand. “Did your dad say there was snacks?”

Myka wouldn’t be side-tracked, not when she’d finally met someone like her. “You’re dyslexic?”

Pete sighed. “Yeah.” Then, he added, “But I still know stuff! I’m not dumb.”

Myka could only stare at him, her hands tightly clutching the mythology book. “I’m dyslexic, too.”

Pete finally looked at her. “Really?” Myka nodded, and he started to form a small smile. Then, it faded. “Nuh uh, you have all these books.”

"So?"

"So you can't be dyslexic. You read."

That was too close to what her second-grade teacher had tried to argue. Fury rose up inside Myka. "I am too dyslexic. I just work really hard."

Pete moved to sit down properly on the bed and leaned his back against the wall. "So it's hard for you to read, but you do it anyway?"

"Yes." Myka shut her book with a louder than normal pop, but at least Pete had swung his shoes off of her bed now. It was a completely unrelated action, but it still mollified her and kept her from stepping over and hitting him.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you work so hard to read?"

Maybe she'd still hit him after all. Except Pete hadn't sounded snotty when he'd said it; he'd sounded simply curious. Myka stared down at the Greek mythology cover. "Because I don't want to be left out."

She couldn't say what she'd be left out of if she didn't read. The stories within the pages, maybe. Left out by her dad - he'd never ignored her, but he'd also never given her the attention she wanted. One reason or another, she sensed something important was contained within books and she refused to miss out on it because her stupid brain twisted some signals around.

"Yeah," Pete said. "I hate being left out, too."

Later in the evening, when the bookstore had closed, Mr. Bering came upstairs and spoke with his wife. The conversation was tense, and Mrs. Bering shot Myka that look again, the one Myka couldn't understand. They announced that Pete would be staying the night with them, and, after getting the number from Pete, Mr. Bering walked away to call Pete's mom. Myka and Pete sat down at the dinner table where Mrs. Bering had set out meatloaf, peas, and mashed potatoes. Pete's face shone like it was Christmas.

Myka wanted more information. She was still confused why Pete was staying here instead of going home. "Where do you live?"

"Ohio," Pete said as he tried to get the peas to stick to the mashed potatoes on his fork.

Myka didn't recognize that address. "Where's that street?"

"Huh? No, Ohio like the state."

"That's where you're from?"

"Yeah," Pete nodded and chewed on his food.

************

Myka laid awake in her bed, still considering why and how Pete had traveled from Ohio to Colorado all by himself. Pete had spent the evening watching television with Tracy and was now curled up in a pile of blankets and pillows on Myka's floor. She thought she should have offered him the bed since he was a guest, but he'd seemed content enough on the floor. Though,maybe that was just the three helpings of meatloaf he'd eaten. Or maybe he was used to not sleeping in a bed.

Myka rolled over and stared at Pete over the edge of her bed. "Are you a run away?"

Pete was silent for a moment and then whispered, "Yeah."

"Why'd you run away?"

"Because I had to."

"But why?" Myka asked.

"Something... there was something bad," Pete said. "It was going to hurt my family, so I left. It chases me, so I figure if I keep running, it won't go back and hurt them."

His voice had become shaky, and Myka was struck by the idea that Pete might be holding back tears. Fear crept into her stomach because this boy was so much more than a new kid in her class. He was scared and on his own, and Myka had no idea how to help him.

"What's chasing you?"

"That chicken-snake your dad found in that book."

"The one that's not real?"

"Oh, this thing's real." Pete sat up and looked like a new puppy the way the blankets swirled around him. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Okay."

Pete looked around even though no one else was in the room to overhear them. "I'm a superhero."

That was not a secret; that was a lie. "What?"

"Or I might be, I think," Pete said. "I haven't heard my origin story yet - every superhero has an origin story. But I see weird stuff sometimes - not just the snake monster, but all kinds of things, like one time I saw a lady disappear into a tree. Like not inside it like a bird or anything, she actually faded into the tree. My mom said it was my imagination, but I think she knows something and just isn't telling me."

"You think you're a superhero?"

"Yeah! But I haven't really gotten my powers yet or just no one's found me to tell me them. Like Superman didn't know he was super when he was kid. He came to Earth as a baby, and he figured it out later because he was really strong and fast and stuff. Which I'm really fast and stuff too. Like I can throw a football like," he mimed throwing a football and made whooshing sound, "and it always lands where I want it."

"Like in dodgeball?" Myka asked. She wasn't believing this story. Honestly, she wasn't.

"Yeah, like dodgeball!" Pete said. "I'm just really good at throwing. And maybe that's why I can't really read or sit still. Maybe I'm an alien from another planet so I don't fit in with humans, and I'll be like a superhero to them when I grow up."

"Or maybe you're just a regular person like me with dyslexia and trouble paying attention in class."

Pete considered this. "Maybe you're an alien too, and that's why I wound up here. Because we're both the same kind."

Myka shifted on the bed. She didn't want to be an alien "Well, we can't be the same because I'm faster than you."

"What?" Pete's mouth hung open. "Nuh uh! Well, I'm a better thrower than you."

"Nuh uh!" He was, but he hadn't seen her actually throw so he couldn't know for sure.

"Yeah huh, look." He threw a pillow that hit Myka in her face.

"Hey!" Myka tumbled to the floor to retaliate. They wrestled and swung pillows at each other, both giggling without restraint, until Mrs. Bering came in to make them go to sleep.


	2. Time to Leave

"Tracy, go help your mother sort out your closet."

Myka looked up at her father. Pete, Tracy, and she were playing Chutes and Ladders in the living room. It was about ten in the morning, and either she was about to be directed towards a chore too or her father wanted to speak with her. Those were the only times he ever sent Tracy off to clean.

"Why do I have to help?" Tracy was seven and hadn't caught on to the idea of responsibility.

Mr. Bering squatted down beside her. "Because it's your closet and I need to speak to Myka and Pete alone."

"Fine." Tracy let out a laborious sigh and slowly stood up. She dragged her feet as she walked towards the hallway.

Mr. Bering stood up and directed Myka and Pete to go sit on the couch. He leaned above them to check outside the window and then made sure the curtain was closed tightly.

"Is the chicken-snake outside?" Pete asked.

"No."

Myka didn't like her father answering that question like a chicken-snake was real and searching for Pete. She also didn't like the tense feeling she was getting from this situation. If she wouldn't be scolded, Myka would bring her knees up and hug them.

Mr. Bering sat down on the coffee table across from them. The sight confused her. Maybe he wouldn't have scolded her for hugging her knees after all. He looked at them, one at a time, very seriously.

"Pete, I spoke with your mother last night. You know she's upset that you ran off and has been very worried about you."

Pete hung his head.

"We also discussed what you should do now," Mr Bering continued. "She agreed that it might not be safe for you at home." Myka frowned. "Now, I could let you stay the one night with us, but ultimately it's not safe here either. For you or Myka."

Myka frowned deepened and felt a shot of panic race through her heart. She listened harder over the sounds of her quickened breathing.

"That's why I've made arrangements for you both to go to a summer camp."

"But that's not safe either!" Pete said.

"What summer camp?" Myka asked. "Why do I have to go?"

Mr. Bering still spoke to Pete. "Your mom and I discussed it at length and she agreed it's time for you to visit the camp. I assure you, it's completely safe over there."

"Why am I going, too?" Myka asked. Because Pete should have a friend go with him? Because her family didn't want her around the house anymore? Mr. Bering finally looked at her, but he didn't answer her question.

"What kind of camp is it? How's it safe?" Pete asked.

"It's a summer camp in New York that's designed specifically for people like you."

"In New York?" Myka asked.

"What do you mean people like me?" Pete asked. "Am I not human? Am I actually an alien?"

Myka wanted to scoff, but her dad believed in the chicken-snake and was sending her across the country for summer camp by herself so anything could be true at that point.

Mr. Bering rubbed his hand over his face. "It should really be your mother telling you this, but you're here and she's not."

Pete moved to stand up on his knees on the couch. "Am I a superhero?"

"No, you're not a superhero," Mr. Bering said. "Not exactly."

Not exactly. This conversation was going horribly wrong. Myka pulled her legs up to the couch to hug them and dropped her chin on her knees.

"They do call you heroes, but it's not the kind you're thinking of."

Who's they? Who was her father talking about?

"So, I'm not a superhero?" Pete asked.

Mr. Bering took a breath and looked Pete square in the eye. "You're a demigod."

Myka stopped breathing.

"You both are."

Many thoughts streamed through Myka's head, but the only coherent one was "no". No, it wasn't true. No, this wasn't happening. No, her father was not making up a story just to get rid of her for the summer.

"I'm a demigod." Pete reached his hands high into the air, still standing on his knees. Then, he dropped back to his heels and asked, "What is that?"

“It’s.. Well it’s complicated,” Mr. Bering said. “Do you know anything about ancient Greek and their religion?”

Myka spoke before Pete could answer. “You’re lying.”

“Myka, have I ever lied to you?”

“Yes. You’re lying right now.”

“Myka.”

“Or if this is true,” which is ridiculous. It’s not true it’s not true it’s not true. “Then you’ve lied to me my whole life.” Her heart was racing.

“I’ve kept the truth from you to keep you safe,” Mr. Bering said. “I never lied to you.”

Myka bit her lip and fought down tears. He was sticking to the demigod story.

“But what’s a demigod?” Pete asked. “And what does it have to do with superheroes?”

Myka sprang off the couch and ran to her room. Her father yelled at her, but she ignored him, shut her door and curled up in the corner between her desk and the bookshelf. Her father pounded on the door and shouted at her to open it. He shouted that this was why he’d never told her, because she was a child who wouldn’t understand. Because she got upset too easily. Myka wrapped herself up as small as she could and fervently prayed that he wouldn’t push his way in and yank her off the floor. He could have - she didn’t have a lock on her door - but he never did. Finally he gave up and told her to pack a bag because someone was coming to pick her up soon. Then he left. Myka buried her face in her knees and let herself cry.

After a few moments of silence, her door opened. Myka tensed and didn’t lift her head. “Go away, go away, go away,” she whispered.

“Myka?” It was Pete. Myka felt ashamed for crying in front of him and yet, a fresh wave of tears sprang up.

“Myka?” She heard him sit down in front of her. “We’re supposed to pack. I mean, my backpack’s already got everything in it, but. … Do you know what’s going on? Your dad didn’t really say.”

Myka shook her head.

“Oh. I thought you knew what a demigod is.”

Myka lifted her head up and rubbed her tears away. “It’s a half-god, half-human.”

“Like Jesus?”

Myka frowned. Her family wasn’t religious, but she’s pretty sure that Jesus wasn’t a demigod. “No, not God-god. Like the Greek gods, Zeus and Athena. They would come down and have kids with humans and those kids were demigods.”

“So… like in the movie Hercules?” Pete asked.

“Yeah. Hercules was a demigod.”

“Whoa. So my real dad isn’t dead, he’s Zeus?” A vicious clap of thunder rolled through and startled both of them. Weird. Myka only saw sun shining through her blinds.

“No, you’re dad isn’t Zeus,” Myka said. “Demigods aren’t real. They’re mythology.”

“But your dad said -”

“He’s lying.” Myka’s throat tightened. “He’s just sending me away. He doesn’t want me here.” She didn’t know if it was because she let Pete come home with her on the bus or if she’d gotten in trouble at school and no one had told her. But her dad was punishing her for something.

Pete shrugged and poked at his shoelace. “I’m being sent away, too.”

Myka watched him. That was true. Pete wasn’t going home either. His mom was sending him to the same camp. “What time are we leaving?” she asked.

“I dunno. It sounded like soon.”

She nodded. Slowly, she stood up and cleared out her backpack so she could pack.

Myka was a rational person. Ordinarily, her father was too, but this situation was bordering on insane. Her father had honestly declared her to be a child of the mythological Greek gods. True, she didn’t know who her birth mother was, but as she’s rarely been able to recognize her relation to her father, she’d never considered her relation to her birth mother to be important. Myka was an anomaly, the oddball in her family and in her school. If her father who had raised her couldn’t provide a connection for her, how could a birth mother she’d never met provide one? Still, not knowing her birth mother didn’t allow her to accept that her mother might not have been human at all. That was just absurd. Though, her father had called Pete a demigod, too. And Pete had been able to identify an amphisbaena without knowing anything about Greek mythology. It was too obscure to be a coincidence. Amphisbaena weren’t exactly featured in Disney movies.

But a demigod?

A man arrived after lunch, a Mr. Valda. He was shorter than Myka’s dad and wore a cap like old-fashioned newsboys wore. He was introduced as their ride to the summer camp.

“What’s this camp like?” Pete asked again. “Is it big? Are there a lot of kids there?”

“It’s big enough,” Mr. Valda said.

“Do you have an accent? What kind is it?”

“British.”

“Is this a British camp? I thought we were going to New York. Are there going to be other people with accents?”

Mr. Valda took a slow, deep breath before responding. “Very few.”

“Okay cool.” Pete tilted his head. “Hey, why does your hat look funny?” Mr. Valda looked angry, so Myka nudged Pete to make him stop asking questions.

Mr. Bering crossed over to stand in front of Myka. “You’ll be safe at this camp, and it’ll be fun. You’ll learn a lot.” He put his hand on her shoulder. Myka eyed him wearily. “I know this is a lot to process, and I’m sorry you have to leave so suddenly, but it really is dangerous for you to stay home right now. This camp is better protected. Nothing bad will be able to reach you there.”

But something bad could reach her here? Had she always been in danger at home?

“We should leave,” Mr. Valda said. “Amphisbaena aren’t very bright, but it will find their scent eventually. It’s better if we’re on the road when that happens.”

Mr. Bering squeezed Myka’s shoulder and then stepped aside for Myka and Pete to follow Mr. Valda down the stairs. There was an old car waiting for them in front of the store. It smelled of peppers and garlic like it had served the last decade as a pizza delivery vehicle. Myka sat in the back seat with her backpack between her feet and Pete bouncing in the seat beside her. A jolt of fear hit her as they pulled away from the curb, and when they reached the first turn, Myka spun around in her seatbelt and looked back. She could just see her father standing in the doorway of the store. He didn't wave. 

_Why'd I have to leave? Why couldn't I stay?_

They got on the highway and drove for a very long time. Mr. Valda wasn’t very chatty. He didn’t respond to anything they did or said except to tell Pete to stop fidgeting. Myka thought he looked tense, and she wondered if it was because he was uncomfortable driving. He didn’t seem used to the pedals. Whenever he switched from the gas to the brake, he pulled his entire leg back before pressing down again. It looked strange.

Eventually, Myka became restless with studying the car and its occupants. Pete had already pulled out a stack of comic books from his backpack to flip through, so she reached into her own bag and pulled out _Treasure Island_. She brought her legs up on the seat and curled against the window to read.

************

Myka woke up feeling sore in her neck and cramped from sitting in the car. She blinked and looked around, trying to figure out how long she'd been asleep. That's when she realized the car wasn't moving anymore.

She sat up and took off her seat belt. They were at a gas station. Mr. Valda stood outside at the pump filling up the car. She wondered if he would let them stretch their legs. Or get some real food because she was starving by this point. Whatever lunch she’d been able to eat was long gone.

Pete groaned and mumbled. Myka tapped him with her foot.

"What?"

"Wake up."

"Mmm." Pete's eyes slowly opened, closed again, and then opened in a squint. "It's hot."

"The car's stopped."

"Why, what's going on?"

"I guess we ran out of gas."

Mr. Valda opened Pete's door making Pete lose his balance and get caught hanging awkwardly against his seat belt. Myka reached out to help him straighten up.

"You have two minutes to buy what you want," Mr. Valda said. "Be quick about it."

"I didn't bring any money," Myka said.

"I have some for you." Mr. Valda gave a ten dollar bill to Pete who had been searching through his bag. Myka sighed with relief.

"Thank you." Pete and Myka got out of the car and rushed into the convenience store. They went to the bathrooms first, and when Myka came out, Pete was at the slushie machine, pulling at the stack of cups.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Getting a drink," Pete said. He grabbed the largest cup available and eyed the different flavors in the swirling machines.

"I don't think Mr. Valda will let us stop if you have to use the bathroom later."

"I'm good. I just went pee."

Myka crinkled her nose. Pete placed his cup under the blue machine, but Myka stepped over and stopped him from turning the valve.

"What?" Pete said.

"If you drink all of that, you'll have to go again in an hour. Mr. Valda won't stop, and I'm not riding with you if you pee in the car."

Pete frowned. "I wouldn't pee in the car."

"Get a smaller drink."

Pete grumbled, but he put the large cup back. Myka moved to search for any real food the store might be selling. She wanted something more filling than chips or cookies.

There wasn’t a lot of options, so she settled on Pop-Tarts, peanut butter crackers, and a milk and joined Pete at the counter where he had a bag of jellybeans, a package of Oreos, and a bag of Cheez-it's. Myka looked at the combination and then looked at Pete.

"Seriously?"

"Fruit, chocolate, salt," Pete pointed.

Myka shook her head. At least he'd taken her advice and gotten a child-sized fountain drink. The clerk rang them up while Myka eyed the display of Twizzlers sitting beneath the counter. Did they have enough money for those too?

Mr. Valda barged through the door. "I said two minutes!"

Myka and Pete talked over each other to explain while Mr. Valda marched in and plucked up their packages from the counter. "We need to move. Now," he said. To the clerk, "Keep the change."

Pete nudged Myka's arm until she looked down where he was pointing. Mr. Valda wasn't wearing shoes. Not that shoes would have fit him anyway: his feet were goat hooves.

Myka stared as Mr. Valda pushed them and continued to shout at them to hurry. They stumbled to the doors. When Myka reached outside, she saw a large shadow coming down the road that was definitely not a truck.

"What is that?"

"Get in the car!" Mr. Valda yelled.

Myka ran behind Pete who slid all the way across the backseat so Myka could get in.

"You had to take so bloody long, didn't you?" Mr. Valda yelled as he started the car and slammed his foot on the accelerator. Myka and Pete both protested again - they needed the bathroom, they were hungry - but Myka spotted feathers floating past the windows and ceased talking. She twisted to see behind them and found the shadow had materialized into the largest chicken she had ever seen. More horrifying was its head and tail were conspicuously absent. In their places where long scaly bodies and heads of snakes. The head from the tail end arched over the body to join the other as the creature ran after the car as fast as it could on its chicken feet.

Myka screamed. Pete shouted that it'd found him, and Mr. Valda sped the car down the road away from the highway entrance.

"Run! Run!" Pete said. "Floor it!"

"Shut up and make yourselves useful," Mr. Valda said. "Open the backseat."

Myka's heart pounded and she gaped at the monster, but she caught Mr. Valda's orders. "What? How?"

"The backseat. A section opens into the trunk. Pull it down."

Myka and Pete looked at the seat. Myka found the tab first and tugged. A six inch wide section came down like an arm rest. Beyond it was a dimly lit space that rattled with objects.

"Hurry up and arm yourselves." Mr. Valda took a turn and sent Myka falling against the door. Maybe she should have her seat belt on. Should she be putting her seat belt on? Would that help her if this monster attacked the car?

"Oh cool!" Pete's voice pulled her back. He pulled his arm out of the trunk and manipulated a crossbow through the hole.

"Can you shoot?" Mr. Valda asked.

"Um.."

"Can you even load it?"

"Maybe..." Pete messed with the crossbow while Myka climbed partially into the trunk. She couldn't see anything, but her hands found what felt like a bundle of arrows and brought them out for Pete.

"Don't shoot me with it." Then she dove back in to see what other weapons were in the trunk. She came up with a sword or sword-like weapon, but there was no room in the car to swing it. She moved on. Almost in the back, when she was stretched at an awkward angle and scared she would fall completely in the trunk and get stuck, Myka's hand hit a knife. She grabbed it and scooted back into the car. She didn't know enough about knives to know what kind it was, but the tip was pointy and it looked useful if a snake head snapped at her.

"I got it!" Pete said. "I think."

Mr. Valda muttered in the front seat. Myka looked out the back windshield. The amphisbaena continued to run after them, not losing or gaining any ground.

"If it was in the city, how did it catch up to us so fast?"

"Be quiet," Mr. Valda yelled, focusing on the road. He pulled into a large empty parking lot near some abandoned buildings and parked. "This will do." He turned to them. "I suggest you learn to fight and quickly."

Myka was baffled when he got out of the car. Weren't they better protected inside? Even more baffling, Mr. Valda brought out a pipe reed and began playing a tune as the amphisbaena approached.

Pete opened the door and stepped outside, too.

"Pete!"

"I can't shoot it inside!" She watched him struggle to aim the crossbow, and then he pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He hadn't loaded the crossbow correctly.

Fortunately for Pete, the amphisbaena seemed angrier with Mr. Valda right then. It's front head dove and snapped while the tail one hissed like an army of cicadas. The front head dove again, and Mr. Valda narrowly jumped away as he continued to play his reeds.

Myka got out of the car and rushed to him. When the amphisbaena dove again, she was there with her knife to slash at it's neck. It didn't leave much of a mark - the knife seemed to glide over its scales more than anything - but the creature still felt the force and drew back to hiss. Myka watched it, trying not to panic as it glared at her and prepared to strike again.

At the bottom of her vision, she noticed something moving. The amphisbaena struck out; Myka dodged and slashed. She realized the movement was weeds growing over the creature's feet. Dandelions, crab grass - whatever roots were beneath the pavement were coming up through the cracks and wrapping thick strands over and around the chicken feet. She was pretty sure the amphisbaena wasn't doing that.

There was a thunk and a whoosh, and then she heard Pete cheer. An arrow stuck out of one of the creature's necks. Pete must have figured out the crossbow.

And now he had the amphisbaena's attention. The creature turned its head and tried to take a step towards Pete, but the weeds held it fast. More hissing and the amphisbaena lowered both heads to check out what had trapped it. Myka ran over and plunged her knife down. The tip broke through the snake scales and drew blood, but it didn't seem to go deep. The amphisbaena's front head arched up and sent Myka flying back. She hit the pavement butt-first and winced.

Another arrow struck the creature. Pete had hit it in the eye this time. The amphisbaena made a hiss loud enough to resemble a screech and shook it's head while the uninjured one tried to reach out and bite him. Its feet pulled enough to crack through the weeds. Mr. Valda switched tunes and played louder, and more weeds sprung up to ensnare.

"Hey you stupid snake!" Pete yelled. Myka couldn't see him through the car, but another arrow whizzed through the air and pierced its head. The amphisbaena still flailed and struggled to free its feet. Myka rushed it and made another jab into its neck, but the injury just angered it. It didn't seem to feel pain. What would she have to do? Slice its neck open? The idea made her nauseated, and then a head swooshed down to bite her and she retreated.

Myka eyed the creature looking for a weakness. It was too tall for her to reach the snake heads unless it dove down. The body was also large, but otherwise looked like a normal chicken's body covered in feathers. Maybe it wasn't as strong as the snake scales? "Hit the body!"

"What?" Pete yelled.

"The chicken part. Hit the chicken part!" Pete sent his next arrow deep into the feathers, and both snake heads hissed and leaned down to check the damage. One of them bit the shaft to pull it out. Myka sized up the creature. If it had a heart, it would be about... there.

Myka clutched her knife. If she was going to reach the heart, she'd have to climb onto the trunk. But the amphisbaena stood too close to the back of the car. She darted over to the front of the car, climbed on the hood, and carefully walked across to the other end. The amphisbaena had finished removing the arrow and noticed her when she reached the trunk. It arched forward with both heads and hissed.

"Pete!"

"Hey! Hey you stupid bird!" Pete ran out from beside the car. "Eat arrows!" He struck the body again, and where the shouting didn't capture its attention, the arrow definitely did. The amphisbaena swung its heads around. Myka was clear.

She gritted her teeth and jumped. She clawed for a grip as she collided with the monster and caught hold of some feathers. However, it was immediately clear the feathers would fall out rather than hold her weight. She scrambled for a better hold, thoroughly enraging the amphisbaena in doing so, but got an arm around the neck and held on. She adjusted her grip on the knife and plunged it into the feathered body before the creature could work how to reach her. Her aim must have been true. The creature shuddered and began to collapse. There was a second where Myka panicked that she'd be trapped beneath it when it fell, but then suddenly there was no creature. She fell to the ground, landing badly on her knee and scraping her arm. Dust fell around her. It took her a moment to breathe through the sharp pain of her knee, and then she rolled over. There was nothing but sky above her.

Mr. Valda's face appeared. “You survived, then?”

Myka blinked at him then put her arm over her eyes. The dust was still falling.

“Myka! Myka! We killed it! We won!” Pete came to a skid next to her, and she felt his knees bump into her side. “You totally killed it! It’s gone! It just crumbled away like old cookie crumbs. It was awesome!”

Myka groaned and sat up. Her right hand felt raw from the pavement, and her knee was bleeding. It didn’t look deep, but she suspected she’d have a nasty bruise for the next week. The knife was still next to her along with a single feather that must have fallen out before the creature disappeared. Myka picked the feather up.

“A souvenir of your battle,” Mr. Valda said. “If you’re alright, I’d like to get back on the road. Gather the weapons up and let’s go.”

“So, do we get to go home now?” Pete asked.

“No, you’re still off to camp.”

“But we killed the snake monster.”

Myka was silent as she stood up, but she agreed with Pete. The danger was gone, they should get to go home.

“You only banished it, temporarily,” Mr. Valda said. “Monsters never die. They’ll reform at some point, an hour from now or a century. It makes no difference, though. You know you’re demigods and will need proper training. Camp is the best place for you right now.”

Pete looked distraught. “But my mom.”

“Will be better served if you learned how to properly fight,” Mr. Valda said. “How long did it take you to load that crossbow?”

Pete fixed his grip on the crossbow. “Well, you didn't even fight at all. You just played music.”

Mr. Valda leaned down to face level. "I'm not the demigod. You are. And that music likely saved your lives by keeping it contained so a little gratefulness might be in order."

"I want to go home!"

"You'll get in the car." Mr. Valda walked towards the driver's seat.

“What about calling?” Myka asked because Pete looked like he would throw his crossbow at Mr. Valda's head in another second. “Can we call home?”

“Not out here. Cell phones will attract more monsters. You’ll have a way to contact them after we get to camp.” Mr. Valda opened the door. “Now, let us go.”

Pete and Myka stayed in place another moment.

"He's just a stupid goat," Pete said. "He's got horns on his hat. Do you see them? He's a stupid goat bossing us around."

"Satyr," Myka said. "He's not a goat. He’s called a satyr."

Pete brushed his eye roughly. "I miss my mom."

Like the night before, Myka didn't know what to do. "We can call her when we get to the camp."

"Why can't we call her now?"

"I don't know." Myka shifted her grip on her knife. She felt silly holding it with the monster disintegrated into dust. "Come on, let's get back in the car."

Pete walked with her, still looking downcast. “The amphis-snake won’t reform at my mom’s house, will it?”

“No,” Myka said even though she had no idea. “He said it could take a whole century before it’ll reform.”

“Yeah,” Pete nodded. “Yeah.”

Mr. Valda started up the car without speaking, and in a few minutes, they were back on the highway driving to this strange summer camp.


	3. Camp Half-Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by ohthesefeelingz (Tumblr name), but all mistakes are mine.

It took another eighteen hours of driving to reach New York. Myka and Pete spent the time snacking or sleeping or exploring the other items in the car. Myka found a first aid kit and bandaged her knee. Mr. Valda yelled at Pete when he picked up a bag of golden cake that was also in the kit.

"Don't eat that unless you're dying! Put it down." Pete dropped it immediately.

In general, Mr. Valda was nicer to them, or at least more relaxed. He even took them through the McDonald's drive-thru for breakfast which was a treat for both kids. Though, Pete struggled to eat his pancakes in a moving car.

"Why'd you even order pancakes?" Myka asked, eating her more car-friendly breakfast sandwich.

"Because they're _pancakes,_ " Pete said like that explained everything.

By early afternoon East Coast time (around noon Colorado time, Myka noted. She didn't want to lose track), they pulled next to a big field somewhere in Long Island.

"We're here."

Myka and Pete climbed out, dizzy and legs feeling dead from the car. There was a line of pines and tall, wispy trees lining the road. Beyond that was a large farm field of small, green plants sloping down and down until it reached a lake. A big farm house sat at the bottom of the hill. A sign stuck in the grass by the tree line and read "Delphi Strawberry Farm." Myka wasn't familiar with Long Island, but she thought a strawberry farm was out of place here.

"This is a farming camp?" Pete asked.

"Walk past the tree line."

Myka and Pete exchanged looks. They shouldered their bags and crossed the drainage ditch to reach the trees. Nothing looked different, and then they took a step more. Suddenly a path sprang up through the strawberry field, cutting right through the rows of plants until it reached the farm house. A dozen smaller buildings dotted the lake front, none of which had been visible from the road.

"Look behind you."

Myka startled. She hadn't heard Mr. Valda walk up. She turned around and saw the strawberry farm sign was now a tall archway. Along the top were symbols Myka recognized as meaning Camp Half-Blood.

"Hey, I can actually read that!" Pete said.

"It's ancient Greek," Mr. Valda said. "Your brains are naturally tuned to read it. That's why demigods struggle to read other languages."

Myka stared at the sign, basking in her ability to understand it at once without any concentration. "That's why we're dyslexic? Because our brains are looking for ancient Greek?"

"That's why you're diagnosed as dyslexic, yes."

Mr. Valda began leading them down the hill.

"Are all the books here written in ancient Greek?" Myka asked. Maybe they had translations of modern books. Maybe she could finally read Charles Dickens.

"Many, though you won't find too many books here to begin with. I believe the Athena cabin hoards most of them. This is a training camp first and foremost. That means weapons training, fitness training. Not reading."

Myka didn't agree with this definition of training.

Down by the farm house, they could see other children, all looking older than they were, walking or running between the buildings. Mr. Valda explained they were fellow demigods who they would be training with. He paused at the farm house door and knocked.

"Chiron." He knocked again. "Chiron, if you're in." He huffed when there was no answer and stepped off the porch.

"Who are we looking for?" Pete whispered to Myka. Myka shook her head and shrugged. Mr. Valda walked around to the side of the house.

"Ah, here he is." Myka and Pete walked over to see, too. More buildings sprawled out behind the farm house, and between them a man walked towards them. As he approached, Myka saw a tail flick and realized he wasn't a full human. His torso connected into the body of horse.

"Hello!" The half-horse man stopped before them. "So sorry I'm late. I had to get the other new campers started on the archery field."

"Chiron, these are Myka Bering and Pete Lattimer," Mr. Valda said. "Children, this is Chiron. He's in charge of Camp Half-Blood."

"Hello," they mumbled.

"I'll take my leave now," Mr. Valda said. "The children can be your responsibility."

"Thank you, Benedict," Chiron said as Mr. Valda walked away. He looked down at Myka and Pete and smiled. "Let me start by answering some of your questions. Yes, I am a centaur. Yes, I am the Chiron, trainer of heroes. Yes, that does make me quite a bit older than you, and no I am not speaking ancient Greek. There's no magical device here translating the words you hear into English. I simply am speaking English." He shook his head. "Now, would you like a tour?"

Myka was frowning and trying to recall a Chiron in her Greek mythology book. The way he'd introduced himself made her think he was mentioned somewhere.

Pete countered the question with one of his own. "Can I talk to my mom first and let her know I'm okay?"

"Oh, right. Of course," Chiron said. "We'll go inside to call."

He led them into the farm house which looked much like a normal house inside except for a slightly taller ceiling and more open room plans. Chiron led them through a room of cots and into a room containing only a fountain placed in the center of the room. The fountain was a large pool, with one statue rising up at the edge that sprayed water from its outstretched hand.

It dawned on Myka that Chiron had been in her mythology book, but that she'd been pronouncing his name wrong in her head. "Mr. Chiron."

"Please, it's just Chiron." He opened a small skylight and a shaft a sunlight shone into the fountain spray.

"Okay, Chiron? Are you the one who trained Hercules?"

"Yes, I am. Along with many other heroes over the years."

Pete frowned. "But you weren't in the movie."

Chiron sighed and reached into a knapsack around his waist. "And I presume Iris-messaging wasn't either."

"Iris like your eye?"

"Iris like the goddess of the rainbow," Chiron explained. "First, we need a rainbow." Chiron gestured at the sunlight refracting in the spray of the fountain. "Then, we take a drachma," here he held up a gold coin he'd taken from his knapsack. "Toss it into the rainbow and say: Oh, Iris, goddess of the Rainbow, please accept my offering." The misty rainbow wavered and then melded into a grey, opaque screen.

Chiron motioned to Pete. "Now, state who you wish to contact."

"Um, my mom in Ohio. Please."

The grey screen wavered and began varying in shade and intensity like the image was panning. Then the grey pulled away to reveal a full color kitchen. Pete leaned in close to the fountain.

"Where's my mom?"

A woman walked by the kitchen door, and Pete yelled, "Mom!"

The woman startled and clutched the doorway, glancing around. When she spotted whatever portal the rainbow had made, she ran into the kitchen and exclaimed, "Peter! Pete, oh my - are you okay? Are you safe?"

"Yeah! I'm fine," Pete said. "And I killed the snake-monster. Well, Myka did, but I helped, and now we're at this camp at a farm and a goat drove us here and now this is Chiron and he said he's a centaur."

"Yes, Pete, I know. I know who Chiron is, though we've never met. But how are you? What do you mean you killed the snake-monster? You were attacked?"

Myka backed away from the fountain to let Pete and his mother talk. She stood in the doorway, and Chiron walked over to join her.

"Would you like to call your father after Pete's done?"

Myka shook her head. "No, thank you." Chiron didn't push.

Pete looked happier after ending the Iris-message with his mom. He skipped along as Chiron led them outside again.

"Time for a general tour, I believe." Chiron began with the buildings nearest the farm house. Twelve cabins - as Chiron called them for they looked nothing like cabins Myka was used to - stood in the shape of an omega, starting from the lake shore and arcing around towards the farm house. Pete repeated the word 'omega' so that it sounded closer to 'oh my god' and giggled to himself.

"What is wrong with you?" Myka asked.

"Oh-mah-ga!" Pete giggled again. He clapped his hands to his cheeks in a shocked expression and repeated, "Oh-mah-ga!" Myka rolled her eyes and tuned back in to Chiron's tour.

The twelve cabins were in honor of the twelve gods of Olympus. The campers were assigned to a cabin based on who their parent was. Only nine cabins were currently occupied. Zeus, Hera, and Artemis cabins sat empty.

"Hera is devoted too devoted to her family to have demigod offspring," Chiron said. "And Artemis is a sworn maiden. Occasionally, her Hunters will visit and use the cabin, though."

"What about Zeus?" Myka asked. Zeus had all kinds of children according to her book.

"Unfortunately, his demigod children rarely make it to camp," Chiron said. "They're too powerful. The monsters often find them before we do. The last child of his to stay here was ten years ago."

"What happened to them?"

"She turned eighteen and opted not to continue her training with the camp. It's not uncommon."

Chiron stopped them at Hermes cabin. It was the only one to look like an ordinary summer camp cabin. It was wooden with a tiny front porch, and the yard had a large sculpture of a staff with two snakes wound around it. 

"This will be your cabin until you're claimed. Amongst other things, Hermes is the god of travelers. He's a bit more welcoming to new demigods than the others."

"What do you mean by claimed?" Myka asked.

"The gods have to claim each of their children, acknowledge them as official demigods."

"How do they do that?"

"They each have their own mark they use," Chiron said. "You'll know you've been claimed when it happens."

He directed them inside. The cabin was one large room with four bunk beds and half a dozen sleeping bags. Backpacks, clothes, and even what looked like pieces of armor were strewn throughout the room. Pete immediately dashed over to a helmet hanging off a bed post.

"This is so cool!"

"They're supposed to store that in the armory," Chiron said with a shake of his head.

He had them put their things in the corner by the door, and told them there would be new sleeping bags waiting for them when they got back.

"Back from where?" Pete asked.

"From the tour. You still have much to see."

Much to see included the strawberry fields ("We already saw those."), the stables ("Pegasuses!" "Pega _si_."), the forest, the armory, the forge, a vicious looking climbing wall ("Is that lava?" "More or less."), and a large tent of varying craft tables. By the time they reached the archery range, even Myka was feeling dizzy, tired, and overwhelmed by all the sights.

"Can we sit down?" Pete asked.

"How about we join the archery practice instead?" Chiron said. "Rebecca! Rebecca over here, please!"

A red-headed girl looked up from the longest range and jogged over. Her eyes scanned over Myka and Pete when she reached them. "More?"

"Yes, this is Pete Lattimer and Myka Bering," Chiron said. "They just arrived this afternoon. Myka, Pete, this is Rebecca St. Clair. She's the leader of Apollo cabin."

Rebecca smiled. "Welcome to Camp Half-Blood. Are you sticking around here to give archery a go?"

"If you can balance two more new campers with your training," Chiron answered. "Otherwise, I can take them on to Jack."

"Nonsense!" Rebecca said. "We can definitely fit them in. Come on, you two."

Myka glanced at Chiron who nodded and then followed Pete and Rebecca over to a set of targets that were clearly designed for beginners. Three other children were there practicing.

"More cabin-mates for you." Rebecca pointed, "Myka, Pete. Dresdon, Sabrina, and Molly." The kids all mumbled hi and sort of waved. "Are you guys still good?" Some nods. "Alright, I'm going to get Myka and Pete started."

"When'd you guys get here?" Pete asked as Rebecca found them some bows.

"Molly came two days ago," Dresdon said. He gestured between him and Sabrina. "But we've been here a week."

"How old are you?" Sabrina asked. Myka realized she was asking her. "Seventh grade?"

"No, fifth grade," Myka said. "Well, sixth grade now."

"Fifth? You're only a fifth grader?"

Myka frowned. "I will be a sixth grader."

Sabrina looked at Pete. "But you're older, right?"

"I turn thirteen in July."

"But you were in my class," Myka said.

Pete shrugged. "I had a vibe." Myka was baffled.

"Less talking, more shooting," Rebecca said. She handed them each a bow and murmured, "Sorry, Sabrina didn't get found until she was fourteen. She feels behind, but it doesn't really matter."

Rebecca gave them a brief tutorial on how to hold the bow and how to load an arrow. Then, she turned them loose on the targets. They quickly learned shooting a bow was harder than it looked.

"But I could shoot the crossbow!" Pete said.

"When?" Rebecca asked.

"Yesterday with the amphisbeenino."

"Amphisbaena," Myka said. "We were attacked yesterday."

"Ah," Rebecca said. "Well, if you could shoot a crossbow without training, then it was either adrenaline from the battle triggering some of your natural skills or one of the gods took pity on you. Not your parent, though. The gods aren't allowed to directly interfere with their children's struggles."

"So, you're saying I can't actually shoot a crossbow?" Pete asked.

"No, you probably can. Demigods can become skilled with any weapon, but we tend to have preferred weapons that are easier for us to work with. Maybe the bow and arrow is your preferred weapon."

"Hmm...." Pete slotted another arrow and aimed it at the target. The arrow swung wide from the bow when he removed his finger to shoot. "Ugh! I can't do it!"

"Yes, you can. Just try again."

"I can't try a crossbow instead?"

"Nope." Rebecca shook her head. "Regular bow to start with."

Pete and Myka kept working. A half an hour later, Myka finally hit the target. The very bottom of the target, but still. At least it wasn't the grass.

"How'd you do that?" Myka tried to show him how he was positioning his hands wrong, but he was distracted by Dresdon already at the next level of targets.

"Pete, focus."

Pete groaned and tried another shot. The arrow simply fell straight to the ground instead of shooting through the air.

"Don't think so hard," Rebecca said. "Just relax and shoot."

Myka didn't believe Pete was thinking enough about his technique, but Rebecca was the teacher. Pete set his feet again, but as he pulled back on the string, his eyes drifted to what the other kids were doing.

"Nuh uh uh." Rebecca stepped over and put her hands up on either side of Pete's head. "I'll put blinders on you if I have to." Pete crinkled his nose and shook his head with a giggle. Rebecca stepped back, and he lined the shot up again. This time when he let go, the arrow flew straight ahead and stuck into an inner ring on the target.

"I did it!" Pete threw his arms up. Myka cheered and gave him a high five. "Yeah! Who's the man?"

"Good job!" Rebecca said. She handed him another arrow. "Now do it again."

They practiced for another half an hour until a bell rang out across the camp indicating it was dinner time. Myka had been consistently hitting the target by the end, but Pete had advanced to consistently hitting the bullseye. He hopped and mimed shooting arrows as they walked to the mess hall.

Rebecca walked them through the line to get their trays and food. It didn't work any differently than school cafeteria lines, except the counter was ran by people who liked trees. Or people who looked like they were made from trees - either way, their eyes were green and their skin looked like tree bark. Myka and Pete were shown how to make a sacrifice into the large fire in the center of the room ("To honor the gods."), and then they were ushered over to a crowded table and introduced to a boy named Jack Secord.

"Hey, more newbies. Welcome!" Jack smiled and shook their hands.

"Jack is leader of the Hermes cabin," Rebecca said, "which means he's a trickster and show-off."

"A trickster?" Jack grinned. "Show-off, I'll accept, but trickster?"

"Uh huh, where's Apollo's golden calf again?"

"Oh, I wouldn't know. That happened ages before my time," Jack said. He did seem to have a show-offy tone in his voice, Myka thought.

"Besides," Jack continued. "Weren't you the one just scouting my new recruits before I even got a chance to meet them?"

Rebecca shrugged. "Chiron assigned the first years to archery today. Not my fault you can't shoot a bow."

"Ouch." Jack clutched his chest. "That hurts right there. Right there."

Rebecca smirked and walked off to her own table. Jack continued staring after her and it took another girl sitting at the table to shove him and make him sit down.

"Quit making googly eyes and scoot over so the newbies can sit."

"I wasn't making googly eyes," Jack said, but he made room for Myka and Pete to sit down.

"When do we stop being newbies?" Sabrina asked from a few seats down.

"When you stop being newbies," the Hermes girl said.

Myka examined the mess hall while they ate. There were thirteen tables, twelve for the cabins and another turned perpendicular to them at the side of the room where Chiron, Mr. Valda and some other satyrs. Myka knew they were satyrs like Mr. Valda because their horns were all clearly visible. Mr. Valda's were too now that he wasn't wearing his cap.

The rest of the cabin tables varied in number. Some tables were crowded like Hermes tables, while others held only a handful of campers. Three tables were empty just like their cabins. One table seemed to hold exclusively older campers that looked like full-grown adults rather than kids. Strange. The gods must differ in how many and how often they gave birth to demigods.

Back at the Hermes table, Jack and the girl were discussing plans for an upcoming Capture the Flag game.

"You should talk to Helena before you finalize the layout," the girl said.

"She's not on our team."

"She's in our cabin."

"No," Jack said. "She's made it very clear that she's in her own cabin."

The girl rolled her eyes. "She's still technically in our cabin."

"She doesn't want to work with us."

"You're supposed to be the cabin leader. Are you seriously trying to say you can convince, not one, but two Nemesis children to work with us without any problem, but you can't convince Helena who doesn't even have any parental loyalties?"

"Because she's crazy!"

"Oh-mah-ga." was suddenly whispered in Myka's ear causing her to jump. Pete cracked up next to her, and Myka hit his shoulder.

"Stop that. It's not that funny." But Pete wouldn't stop laughing at his joke and continued cracking up for several minutes even as he ate his dinner.

After the meal, the entire camp had free time. Of course, everyone else had been there long enough to have a preconceived activity in mind and split into groups upon filing out of the mess hall. Myka and Pete stood in the grass outside the building, watching the other kids until Molly spotted them.

"Want to go play in the lake?"

Myka and Pete exchanged a look and then agreed. Dresdon and Sabrina joined them later, and the five first-year campers waded around in the lake and splashed each other and then played Queen of the Hill when Sabrina discovered a submerged boulder. They were rounded up by the older campers a half an hour before lights out and taken back to Hermes. New sleeping bags were waiting by the door for Myka and Pete. After walking to the camp bathrooms to dry off and change, Jack instructed them all to go to bed. Not everyone listened. People still talked and shuffled around after the lights flicked off at ten, but Myka didn't hear how long it took the cabin to settle down. She fell asleep five minutes later.

As a person often did when sleeping in a strange new environment (and certainly when that environment involved a sleeping bag on a hardwood floor), Myka woke up before morning. Her eyes blinked heavily as her mind struggled to make sense of her surroundings. She couldn't see much, dark shadows of beds and bags, a slightly less shade of dark easing through the windows. She repositioned herself, intending to go back to sleep, but a beam of light caught her eye. It was in the back of the cabin, and without her glasses, it looked to be coming out of the wall itself. Myka was musing who else was awake in the middle of the night when her brain tugged her under and she was back asleep until morning.


	4. Helena Wells

They woke up stiff and sore the next morning: a bad combination of archery and sleeping bags. Jack literally dragged each of the first-years up from the floor and pulled them out the door. They ate breakfast in the mess hall after making their sacrifices to the gods. Then, the Hermes cabin split up. Some went to the stables, some went to the arts and crafts tent, and the rest, including Myka and Pete, followed Jack out to the weaponry.

"The Apollos and Chiron had you first-years yesterday. Today," Jack smiled, "I get you."

There was a large field next to the armory, much like the archery field except the targets were stuffed dummies lining the long ends of the field. Inside, the armory was built like a large pole barn, open at either end. Against the walls, there were racks of helmets, chest plates, shields, swords, great two-headed axes, knives of all shapes and sizes. All the weapons looked sharp and real, but there didn't seem to be any arm or leg plates with the armor. When Myka asked, Jack explained they were in a storage room off to the side, but nobody used them except for real battles or assigned quests. He did not explain why they weren't used in practice fights when real weapons were still being used. Maybe an experienced swordsman could avoid cutting their partner, but what about the beginners? Myka's archery skills weren't perfect. She doubted her sword-fighting skills would be any better.

Jack fitted them all with the incomplete armor, handed out swords, and sent them to the center practice arena to pair up. He told them to wait while he got the experienced campers started on the dummies outside. Myka shifted her grip on her sword and worried over how exposed her arms and legs felt in just her t-shirt and shorts. Pete took a practice swing with his sword and fumbled it, almost dropping the sword to the ground. It didn't comfort her.

"Okay then," Jack said as he returned. "Who here has used a sword before?" Of the five first-years, nobody raised their hands. "Don't worry. I didn't expect you to. We'll start with the basics."

He showed them how to comfortably grip their sword, how to position their feet and balance themselves. He demonstrated swinging to attack and swinging to block. "Attack with the edge, and block with the flat." Then, he had them put on their helmets and practice both attacking and blocking with their partners.

Myka blocked first. It felt easy as Pete wrestled with the technique. His natural inclination seemed to be swinging with two hands despite Jack ensuring everyone had a sword of the right weight. When they switched, Pete struggled with using the flat side of the blade, while Myka found the attacking position just as easy as defending.

After they'd switched between attacking and defending a few times, Jack called out, "Alright, now free-for-all scrimmage. You're demigods, so prove it."

Myka and Pete exchanged a look. _I'm going to get my arm cut off._ Myka took a deep breath and stepped back into a fighting stance. Pete began to swing, but he had two hands clasped on the hilt.

"One hand," Myka scolded. Pete halted mid-swing and groaned. He dropped his left hand and re-clasped the sword in just his right hand.

"This is not like baseball," he said.

"No. It's a sword." Myka tapped the edge of hers to Pete's helmet. He stuck out his tongue and moved to block when she tried again. Then, they were actually sparring, blows becoming more confident and daring with each successful block. Pete had a tendency to push the offensive, but he couldn't keep his feet balanced. As a result, his blows were messy and often coming from what Myka considered to be terrible angles. She focused on her sword positioning, her steps, the timing.   
She'd block and block and lay a tap to his armor whenever Pete stumbled or thought too long on how to move next. It was kind of fun. She inadvertently danced circles around him while Pete worked to land a hit on her. He never got through.

"How do you do that?"

"You keep swinging from the side."

"No," Pete said. "I know that." He tried swinging differently as he continued, "Your feet. How do you do that and still swing your sword right?"

Myka wasn't entirely sure what he meant, but she thought he was talking about the steps she'd taken to block him, move to the side, and then hit him on the side while his arms were still raised. She stepped out of range of another swing before answering.

"It's..." she didn't know how to put the motions into words. "I don't know. I just do it." She advanced on Pete for a bit so he would have practice blocking. "Just.. stay on your toes more."

"Yeah, like that will help me," Pete said as he tripped over an invisible line on the floor when he tried to step back. Myka giggled, and he stuck his tongue out at her again.

Their sparring led them to rotate and suddenly Myka had a clear view of the older campers sparring in the field. She became distracted watching their moves. They were so much more advanced than any of the first years. They used combinations - they had to be using combinations - but their movements were so fluid Myka couldn't pick out the individual techniques. She watched, entranced and responded to Pete almost automatically. Then she witnessed one boy disarm another. It happened quickly, but Myka was sure the second boy hadn't just lost his grip on his sword. The first boy had done something deliberate to force the sword out of his hand.

What had he done?

"You're not even looking," Pete said.

"I am, too." Out of the corner of her eye. Mostly, she was watching those boys outside hoping to see the disarming again.   
Pete wouldn't let her split her attention like that.

"Myka. MY-ka. Myyyyyka," he repeated her name over and over again in varying pitches and voices until Myka couldn't take it anymore.

"I'm looking!" She turned her eyes back fully to their sparring. She still replayed the disarming in her head as she pushed Pete several feet back with her attacks. She'd have to be quick to pull off a disarming. And she'd need the right opening.

She watched Pete closer. Instead of watching for openings to his armor, she looked for openings to the hilt of his sword.   
She thought she found one, but when she went to strike, she just struck shoulders with Pete and got their feet tangled up.   
Pete laughed and they reset themselves to attack again. The second time Myka spotted an opening, she adjusted her swing and struck quickly before Pete could shift his position. She landed a solid blow to Pete's hand, and his sword went clattering to the floor.

"Ow!" Pete shook out his hand. "That stings." He retrieved his sword.

A fluttering went through Myka's veins. She'd disarmed him. She'd figured out how to disarm him. "Let's try it again."

"What?"

"Just," Myka bounced on her toes because she was too excited. "Do it again. Let's do it again."

Pete shrugged and went back to a fighting stance. She found the right opening faster this time, and when she struck, his sword again went clattering to the floor.

This time it caught Jack's attention.

"Hey are you guys having trouble?"

"No," Pete said while Myka shook her head.

"Let me see your grip again," Jack said.

"No, it isn't that," Pete said. "I can hold my sword. She just keeps knocking it out."

Myka nervously met Jack's gaze. "What does he mean you keep knocking his sword out of his hand?" Jack asked.

"Um." Myka swallowed. She glanced to the field outside. "They were... and I wanted to try it so.. I did. I'm sorry."

Jack flicked his eyes between the older campers outside and Myka. Finally, he nodded and stepped back. "Show me."

"What?"

"Go on," Jack said. "Disarm him again."

Myka hesitated. A look at Pete told her he didn't have any more clue if she was about to be punished or not.

"Come on, I want to see you do it again."

Myka and Pete squared up again. Myka struck first. They swung and blocked and blocked. Myka felt self-conscious with Jack watching them so single-mindedly, and she missed the first opportunity she had to disarm Pete. But another one came a few seconds later, and she sent Pete's sword to the floor again. They both looked up at Jack. Jack was grinning.

"We have a natural swordsman here. Way to go, Myka."

Myka smiled in relief.

They split up a few minutes later. Jack rolled out some indoor dummies for Myka, Sabrina, and Dresdon to practice on. He told them to work on maintaining their control while swinging at full strength. Then, he took Pete and Molly over to try out some knives.

Myka liked the practice dummy. She liked striking at full strength and feeling how easy and smooth the movements felt. She kept an eye on the older campers for other moves she could try. She practiced spins and jabs. She practiced combining two moves, but stumbled a little in her balance. She tried again and again, and as lunchtime approached, she could go from a jab to a spin and block without tripping. That’s when the first knife flew by.

It struck the practice dummy in the shoulder. Myka lowered her arm and stared at the knife. Then, she looked behind her for the person who threw it. Pete and Molly were throwing knives with Jack, but they were in the corner and facing targets on the wall. They were too far away to have thrown this knife. The other first-years were busy with their own dummies. No one else was in the armory.

Myka removed the knife and set it aside. Nothing else happened so she resumed her practice. Another knife flew and stuck in the dummy’s side. Myka turned and searched the area again. Something flickered at the top of her vision and drew her eyes up to the rafters. Wide, thick wooden beams criss-crossed all through the peaked roof. She couldn’t see any ladders or stairs leading up, but - assuming someone could get around that - there were any number of places for someone to hide out of sight.

Someone was definitely up there, now. And they were throwing knives at her.

Anger swept through her. It was only her second day here, and someone was using her as target practice. Well, she’d show them. She’d survived an amphisbaena. She could handle some anonymous knife-thrower.

Myka identified the section of rafters she thought the person was hiding and angled herself to the practice dummy so she could view that section through the corner of her eye. She returned to her practice. A minute later, a knife flew into her dummy, and Myka saw it just before it hit. It was definitely coming from the rafters. She tensed her jaw and struck the knife with her sword to dislodge it.

_Try it again. I dare you._

It was like the person heard her. Myka saw the knife spinning through the air and swung. Her sword smacked it and sent the knife careening off to the side where it hit the wall and fell to the floor.

“Stop it!” she yelled to the rafters.

The noise made everyone look at her. Jack walked over, spotted the knives sprinkling the floor, and growled. But he didn’t yell at Myka. He spun around and also looked up into the rafters.

“Wells! Knock it off right now, I mean it! Get down and help or leave! I’m not letting you harass the newbies!”

There were some scuttling sounds and a laugh rang out. Then, there was a thump outside like someone had jumped to the ground. Jack shouted again and ran to the doorway. Myka followed close behind. The older campers had been distracted by the commotion, too. Everyone stared out over the field, but all Myka could see was a wave of dark hair disappearing down a hill.

“Who was that?” she asked.

“Helena Wells,” Jack said. He still sounded furious. “Thinks she doesn’t have to answer to me because she’s been here longer, exactly one year longer, like that makes a difference. And she's younger, too. Drives me nuts.”

“What cabin is she in?” Myka asked.

“Ours unfortunately. She’s never been claimed.” The lunch bell rang out across camp, and Jack turned back into the armory. “Come on, we need to get your armor put up.”

Myka examined the Hermes table closely during lunch. Everyone sitting at the table had been present at the armory. There wasn’t anyone new and no one was missing. Whoever this Helena Wells was, she must have never eaten with their cabin since Myka arrived. That meant Myka had never met the girl, so why on earth had Helena targeted her? Because she was new? There were four other new kids in Hermes cabin. Helena hadn’t thrown knives at any of them.

Pete chatted happily to her through the meal. This demigod stuff was cool, playing with weapons all day. And he was good at shooting a bow and arrow! And she was good at whacking with a sword. Maybe they'd do well at tournaments. Did she think they had tournaments at this camp? – and on and on. Myka did admit fighting with the sword felt, well, amazing, but her excitement was dampened by being made a target earlier.

They spent the afternoon playing in an intense sand volleyball tournament with Apollo, ares, and Demeter cabins. Chiron dropped a boy off with their group. His name was Tyler, and he had just discovered he was a demigod, too. He sat with Myka and Pete at dinner, but went with Dresdon and Molly for free time. Pete was invited to play with the Apollo cabin in the lake. He asked Myka if she wanted to come, but Myka turned him down. She didn't want to get soaked again and decided to head back to Hermes cabin to read.

Myka sat down on her sleeping bag and dug through her backpack for her book. To her surprise, she came up empty. Only her extra clothes were in her bag. A trickle of panic ran through her. Had she left it in Mr. Valda's car? No. No, it was in there. She'd just buried it with her t-shirts. She checked again. Nothing. Then, she dumped everything out on her sleeping bag and searched through the items one by one. Still, no book. Now the panic fully blossomed. Her book was missing.

She took a deep breath and fought down the urge to cry. It wasn't fair. Why would anyone take something that didn't belong to them? And why would they take her book? No one else in this stupid camp seemed to even read books.

As she stuffed her clothes back into her bag, she found a slip of paper tucked in the pile. It was a handwritten note in ancient Greek that translated to "Come find me."

Myka was torn between anger and frustrating helplessness. The thief had left a note to taunt her. She glanced around the cabin, wondering how she was supposed to go find this person without any directions. Then, she noticed a sticky note hanging on the post of the closest bunk bed.

"Warmer."

Myka was not amused by this game. She searched the rest of the cabin and didn't find another note. But she did notice a spot in the wall that looked odd. Upon closer investigation, Myka discovered the section swung open like a glove compartment in a car. Inside was a package of gum, some strange gold coins, and - lo and behold - another note. This one said, "Not yet."

Myka took the note, but left the rest. She began searching the walls for other hideaways. She came up with three more and one in the ceiling that required climbing on someone's bunk to reach. Two of them were dusty like they weren't used often, one of them contained a Twinkie so ancient it actually looked dehydrated, but all of them also held notes featuring various taunts like "no, sorry. Colder." or commentary on the hideaway's contents "But why waste time racing cars in a video game?" None contained her book.

She found one last hideaway in the baseboard near the door with a note that said "Oh, so far off." A solid forty-five minutes had passed during the search, and Myka was fed up.

"I hate you," she said out loud to vent. She slid the baseboard closed and stood up. This was a hopeless chase.

By now, the sun was beginning to set. The back of the cabin faced the lake which was on the west side of camp. If there were windows in the back wall of the cabin, Myka would be able to see the sunset. But the cabin had no windows in the back wall.

Yet Myka could still see sunbeams on the floor.

She frowned and walked closer. The beams were slipping beneath the wall, like a light slips beneath a door. It jogged Myka's memory of that light she'd spotted in the middle of the night. Was that wall not really a wall?

She examined it carefully. It looked like the other cabin walls. She had even found a hideaway in it earlier. But looking at it again with the mindset that there could be a room behind, Myka could see that it didn't appear to be as stable as the other walls, and that it was missing the baseboard. She dropped to the floor and saw a half-inch gap between the bottom of the wall and the floor. She couldn't see past the wall very well, but the floor definitely ran beyond it. There was another room to this cabin.

She stood back up and searched for the door. She started in the middle and soon found a depression in the wall that looked like a simple knot in the wood from further away. She pressed her fingers against it. It wasn't a button. Was it a handhold?   
She tried pulling and pushing to either side and discovered the wall slid away to the right like a closet door. She slid it back enough to step through and looked around.

The hidden room ran the entire back wall of the cabin, but was extremely narrow. The bunk bed to Myka's right barely fit. The left half of the room was taken up by a double-decker desk. The bottom level sat a little higher than the bottom bunk and was covered in scrolls, books, pencils and protractors of various sizes. The top level reached a few inches above the bed of the top bunk and had blueprints hanging over its edge. Lying on her stomach across the top bunk was a girl, a bit older than Myka, and with long, black hair. Myka realized this was Helena Wells, the mysterious Hermes resident who had thrown knives at her that morning.

"You found me!" Helena said. "Well done!" She sounded genuinely pleased. And did not sound American.

Myka stood up straight and crossed her arms. "Did you leave those notes?"

"Indeed, I did." Helena slipped off the bed into the thin space that passed for a walkway in this room. "How many did you find?" She plucked the papers from Myka's hand and counted them up. "Only missed two, that is impressive. Aren't those hideaways fascinating? Carved out by generations of demigods searching for some privacy in a cabin where none is to be found." She smiled at Myka, and Myka realized her accent was British like Mr. Valda's. "Well, privacy and security. Hermes children do have a tendency to swipe things from others."

"Like my book?" Myka said. "Where is it?"

"It's safe." Helena climbed into the bottom bunk to flip through the piles on the bottom desk. She came out with Myka's copy of _Treasure Island._ "It’s a bit odd for a demigod to own such a book."

Myka grabbed her book and clutched it to her chest. "Why were you looking through my things?"

"I didn't," Helena said. "Two of the kids were searching the first-year's bags for food to steal. I overheard one of them mention they found a book. I was curious about the owner."

"So you stole it?"

"I left a note."

Myka huffed. She checked over the book's cover for damage, and when she found none, she said, "Read your own books next time." Then, she walked away.

"Wait!" Helena followed and stood in the doorway of her hidden room. "I was wondering. What other books do you like to read?"

Myka hovered in the middle of the cabin and shrugged.

" _Treasure Island_ , that can't be your first novel," Helena continued. "What others have you read?"

Myka bit her lip. She wanted to say she'd read any books she had time to decipher. She wanted to mention Jules Verne and L. Frank Baum. Even at school where no one else was dyslexic, Myka still didn't have anybody to discuss her love of reading with. But this Helena wasn't like the kids at Myka's school. She was dangerous. "You threw knives at me."

Helena rolled her eyes. "I threw knives around you. I never would've hit you."

"No, you threw knives _at_ me," Myka said. "Why'd you do that?"

"Because you looked like you could use a challenge." Helena smiled, "And you handled it brilliantly. Deflected my last throw with ease."

That was such a ridiculous answer. People didn't throw knives at other people because it would be a challenge. But a commotion rose up outside distracted them both. People were shouting and there was the loud sound of water splashing like someone was struggling in the lake. Myka got a bad feeling.

"Pete." She tossed her book by her backpack and ran out the door.

"Pete!" Myka sprinted down to the Apollo cabin where a crowd stood around the lake. She darted around people until she reached the water's edge. A girl was pulling a coughing Pete back onto the grass. Myka ran to them.

"What happened? What did you do?"

"I," but Pete coughed too hard to answer with words so he pointed out to the lake. Myka looked out and saw a line of buoys stretching from land out into the lake, but that didn't tell her why Pete looked half-drowned.

"We've been playing Human Slingshot," answered the girl who had brought Pete up. Dark hair, dark skin, dark eyes - Myka vaguely recognized her as belonging to one of the smallest tables in the mess hall. The girl poked Pete. "Well, they've been playing. I've been lifeguarding."

"What's Human Slingshot?"

"You go," Pete coughed again and pointed at the swings. "On the swings then you try and hit -" another cough "- the."   
Pete waved vaguely at the lake as he coughed again.

"It's a stupid Apollo game where they're launching themselves at targets instead of shooting arrows," the girl said. Now Myka understood the buoys.

A scrawny boy who'd been swimming in the lake popped out and dashed over laughing. Rebecca followed not far behind.

"Holy crap that was awesome!" the boy said.

"Did I hit it?" Pete asked.

"Yeah, man, you pummeled it!"

"Whoo!" Pete cheered and then winced and patted his chest. "Ow. Mykes, I got fifty points!"

Myka had no idea what that meant. "Can you even swim?"

"Psh, yeah."

The rescue girl shrugged. "He was doing fine until that last jump. He landed further into the lake than he could handle swimming back. Are you going to be okay now?" she asked Pete. Pete nodded. "Good." And she stood up to head back into the lake.

"Thanks, Shanna!" Rebecca said. 

Water dripped down onto Pete's face, and he pushed his hair back to look up at Rebecca. "Is it my turn again?"

"How about you sit out a round," Rebecca said.

"But I've got two more targets to hit."

"Yeah and they’re further out than the one you just did."

"I'll be fine."

"Pete," Myka scolded. "Stop trying to drown yourself."

"What, I'm not! It's fun."

Rebecca shook her head like she was amused. "Come on, let's stand you up first." She took Pete's hands and pulled him up while Myka squinted and shaded her eyes. Was it getting brighter outside?

Myka stood up, too. The conversations and laughter that had been going on around them morphed into a unified murmuring. Someone called out Rebecca's name. Some of the kids pointed up towards something in the sky.

"Hey, back up guys," Rebecca said.

"What?"

"Back up," the scrawny boy said and tugged on her shirt sleeve. Myka retreated from Pete, but still didn't understand what was happening. The sun kept getting brighter and shining straight down like it was noon, except the sun was also still setting off in the distance. What was going on?

Pete glanced around and shifted nervously with everyone staring at him.

"Pete, look up," Rebecca said. Pete craned his neck back trying to see what was happening. He probably couldn't make it out, standing directly below it, but Myka could see it clearly. It was a lyre, glowing gold and spinning above Pete's head. A lyre like the one Apollo was famous for playing.

Pete had been claimed.


	5. Claimed

Pete moved into Apollo cabin that night. Myka smiled and gave him a high-five in congratulations, but as he trudged away with his backpack and sleeping bag, she had to fight down a lump in her throat. The evening felt far more lonely.

This feeling didn't improve the next day. Myka went through the breakfast line by herself, made her offering to the gods by herself, and ate at the Hermes table by herself. The rest of the campers seemed oblivious to the change. The older ones were all discussing a Capture the Flag game scheduled for that afternoon.

"Who's on our team?" Dresdon asked.

"Ares, Demeter, and Poseidon this week, so we'll be down in overall numbers," Jack said. "But we've got a few surprises up our sleeve." He and a veteran camper named Leann shared a smirk and a high five.

"What do the winners get?" Sabrina asked.

"Bragging rights for the next week."

_Whoopie._

"So how much does Apollo know about our traps?" Leann asked.

Jack shook his head. "Nothing. I never took Pete to the arts and crafts tent."

"I wasn't worried about him. I'm worried about your girlfriend."

Jack frowned. "Rebecca isn't my girlfriend." Leann snorted. "She isn't! And I don't tell her about my secret inventions until after they're not a secret anymore."

"Sure, because you're super humble."

Myka tuned out and glanced toward the Apollo table. Pete was chatting with one of his new siblings, but he noticed her gaze. He grinned and waved large and goofy at her which made Myka smile and wave back.

Jack pulled the first-years aside after breakfast. "Everyone will be busy prepping for Capture the Flag, so you guys should just spend the morning practicing your weapon of choice and maybe practice taking some hits."

"What about Tyler?" Sabrina asked. "He hasn't tried any weapons yet."

"Oh." Jack studied Tyler. "Do you know if you're good at any weapons?"

"I've helped skin a deer before."

"Good enough," Jack said. "Go practice with the knives. See you after lunch for the game."

The five of them trekked over to the armory. Another cabin was in there preparing. They had something covered with tarps in the corner and guarded it closely. They allowed the first-years to grab their armor and weapons, but then booted them outside to practice. Sabrina and Tyler claimed a dummy to work with knives; the other two paired up to spar. Myka was left alone to train, but that didn't last long.

"He was better at archery."

"God!" Myka lost focused and she hit the dummy with the face of the blade instead of the edge. Helena had appeared suddenly behind the dummy.

"It's gods, actually," Helena said. "They do get rather jealous if you start singling one out."

"Where did you come from?" Myka hadn't seen or heard her approach. "Do you spy on everyone?"

"Not everyone," Helena said with a slight smile. She looked past Myka, and her expression changed into a frown. "Oh, now that was just pathetic. He expects to fight anybody like that?"

"Who?" Myka looked over her shoulder.

"That Dresdon boy. I was saying he should really go back to archery. He was better at it."

Myka turned forward. "Maybe he likes fighting with a sword better."

"More likely he didn't think he was good enough at archery."

Myka didn't see how that was a different reason. Helena continued, "He's been here a full week now, he's at least as gifted with archery as your friend is, and yet it was only your friend who was claimed by Apollo last night. Dresdon's still here in Hermes. He must think he wasn't good enough, and so he's given the whole thing up. Silly, really. One should always fight to one's strengths. What does it matter what the gods say?"

Myka looked over at Dresdon again. He and Molly were both fighting with the basic moves they'd been taught yesterday. No spins, no jabs. No experimentation to get better. 

"But we're new," Myka said. "A week ago, we didn't even know demigods existed. We're all still learning."

"Oh, come now," Helena said. "Don't lump yourself in with the rest. You're better than them, smarter. You pay attention."

"Is that why you're picking on me?"

"I'm not picking on you." Helena walked around to stand between Myka and the dummy. "I am sorry, by the way."

"For which part?" Throwing knives, stealing her book? Sneaking up on her when she's holding a sword?

"For your friend being claimed. I'm sorry he was taken from you."

Myka shook her head. "What are you talking about? Pete's still my friend."

"But he's been claimed. He's moved on."

"Why are you being so mean about Pete?"

"I'm not."

Myka gave a frustrated growl and walked off to another practice dummy.

"I wasn't being mean," Helena said. "I was offering my sympathies."

Myka pretended the dummy was holding a sword and practiced disarming it.

"I know what it's like to be left alone."

Myka ground her palm against the sword hilt and went through the disarming motion again.

"Myka."

"Go away!" She swung at the dummy again and focused on ignoring Helena's presence. Suddenly, her sword hit metal on a swing.

"What?" Myka blinked at the other sword she'd hit and then looked at Helena. "Where'd you get that from?" Helena had definitely not been carrying a sword when she showed up.

"Oh, from around," Helena said with a careless air. "Want to spar?"

Myka hit Helena's sword away. "I want to practice." She swung at the dummy, but Helena brought her sword up and blocked her again.

"Sparring is practicing, silly. I'd like to practice, too."

Myka huffed. "You don't have any armor on."

"I don't need it," Helena said. "It gets in my way."

"You're crazy!"

Helena grinned. "Not the first time that's been suggested. Come on then." She hopped to the side. "Let's see how good you are." She swung and Myka instinctively blocked it to avoid a cut to her face. Helena sidestepped and slashed again, and again Myka blocked. Helena continued darting back and forth forcing Myka to dodge or block until Myka became fed up and took an offensive swing of her own.

"Finally!" Helena said. She looked delighted as they settled in to an outright sparring match. Myka soon learned not to worry about cutting her opponent. Helena easily blocked every move she made. It was wonderful, though, the challenge. Helena pushed her to think and move quickly and taught her new moves. Not only by using the new moves against her, but by walking her through each step of them when they required a rest. Helena chatted about everything - Myka's sword-fighting, Capture the Flag, new throwing knives the Hephaestus children were developing that could release a spray of needles as they flew. Whether they were sparring or reclining in the grass, Helena's rate of speech and need for oxygen hardly seemed to change.

And Myka admired her. Helena was clearly arrogant and didn't give much thought to other people's feelings, but oh was she brilliant. She was Pete's age, Myka learned. She'd turned thirteen over the winter, and had lived at the camp since she was seven.

"How'd you find out that you're a demigod when you were only seven? Did your parents tell you?"

"It wasn't hard to piece together when hellhounds were practically beating my door down."

Myka had never seen anything like that around her home. Not until Pete arrived. "My dad just told me. Then sent me here."

Helena stood and helped Myka up from the grass. "Here is better, anyway."

Myka was disappointed when Helena didn't come to lunch with her. "I don't eat in the mess hall during the summer." So, when the lunch bell rang, Myka entered the hall alone. Pete and his tray sat down beside her.

"Aren't you supposed to be at Apollo table now?"

"Yeah, but I wanted to talk to you. I got to shoot with the bow again and guess how far I hit a bullseye at?"

"How far?"

"Two hundred feet!" Pete said. "And that's still just the medium targets. The big kids can all shoot a bullseye at over five hundred feet. It's crazy!"

"So do you get a bow for the capture the flag game later?"

"Nuh uh uh uh!" Rebecca was standing behind their seats. "No swapping strategies with the enemy until after the game."

"I wasn't talking about strategy," Pete said. "I was talking about my mad archery skills. Pew!" He mimed shooting a bow across the room.

"The weapon you'll use still gives away strategy," Rebecca said.

"What, how?"

"Not in front of the enemy." Rebecca tugged on the back of Pete's shirt. "Up."

Pete grumbled but stood up. "It's just Myka."

"And she's probably already breaking down part of our plan in her head." Rebecca said to Myka, "No offense. Things just get kind of intense on Fridays." Then, she poked Pete. "Over this way, firstie."

"Well can I show her our cabin later?"

"Yeah, after the game."

"Awesome!" Pete turned and grinned at Myka. "The skylights look so cool inside! And I have a bed!"

Rebecca waved her arms. "Scoot along."

"Bye Pete," Myka said.

"See ya."

As they walked away, Myka overheard Pete ask Rebecca, "Can I dress in all green for the games? And wear a mask?" Myka shook her head and returned to her food.

************

"As a reminder, the rules are as follows," Chiron said. All the campers were decked out with their chosen armor and weapons and grouped around a creek that ran from the lake into the forest. Red team stood on one side of the creek, blue team on the other. Myka was with the blue team.

Chiron continued, "Each flag must be fully visible and cannot be guarded by more than two people. The guards must stand at least ten yards away from the flag. The creek is the boundary between the two sides. You may roam anywhere in the forest. All magic items are allowed. You may disarm prisoners, but do not bound or gag them." Chiron looked pointedly at a group on the red side that Myka thought belonged to the Athena cabin. "And finally, no killing or maiming the other campers unless you want to lose dessert for a week." Myka's eyes widened in alarm. "Let the game begin!" Chiron blew the whistle hanging from his neck, and then both teams were shouting and running in opposite directions. Myka ran too, wondering what the likelihood of someone dying during capture the flag was and if there was any better way to hang a sword from her waist so she could run without being slapped in the leg.

Jack and a black girl with muscular arms seemed to be in charge. It looked like they were zig-zagging at random through the trees, but the way the older kids would direct or outright pull on the younger kids made Myka suspect the path was specific and intentional. Like there were traps laid out in the forest already and they were weaving between them.

"Demeter, go set up the flag," the black girl directed. A group of six split off from the group, one carrying their blue flag.

"First-year campers," Jack said, "follow Demeter and set up a periphery defense."

"But we can only have two people guarding the flag," said Dresdon.

"You're not guarding it. You're defense," Jack said. "Go." Myka and the other first-year campers ran off after Demeter cabin.

Demeter chose a dead tree to hang the flag on. Then, all but two disappeared into the trees. The first-years shuffled around, looking for a spot to stand on defense while Dresdon and Sabrina argued how far twenty yards was. Myka left them and walked on. The kids were positioning themselves into a semi-circle, but Myka was worried about people sneaking up from behind and stealing the flag. This was a big forest, and she had never been in here before. There could easily be a path that would bring the other team around whatever defense they set up.

She slowly circled around. The forest looked like a regular-old woods filled with trees, fallen branches, moss, tree roots, some mushrooms. She saw a grey squirrel run down a tree only to run immediately back up when it spotted her. The sword still bumped against her leg, but it didn't hurt like when she ran. She wondered if wearing the protective leg armor helped with that, but she'd been told to only worry about the chest plate and helmet still for today. Apparently, the campers were careful not to beat-up first years during the early games. Maybe that was why Jack had assigned them to defense, because he knew it would make the other team hesitate to push on. Or maybe he had written them off as useless and given them defense because he was relying on whatever traps they'd set. Or maybe their team was relying on a strong offensive strategy - they did have Ares on their side. God of war, his children probably preferred offense.

Myka sighed. She didn't know enough to guess their team's plan. She was just taking blind guesses. Maybe she shouldn't have even left the other first-years behind.

A second whistle blew which signaled the end of the preparation period. The teams were free to go after each other's flag now.

Myka examined the nearby trees. A pine tree had branches low enough for her to reach, and she walked over to climb up.

"What are you doing?"

Myka dropped her hands away from the branch and turned to her left. A Demeter girl stood with her brow scrunched and eyes flitting between Myka and the tree.

"Um, I was going to climb up and try to see where the other team was coming from."

"Oh." The Demeter girl stopped looking puzzled and started scanning the trees. "Good thinking, but don't climb that one. Use..." She checked out several before settling on an oak five feet over. "This one. It'll give you a better view."

"How do you know that? Is it an official lookout tree?" Myka asked as she walked over.

"No," the Demeter girl said and didn't add more.

Myka paused before climbing and gave the girl a questioning look.

"My mom's Demeter," the girl shrugged. "We can understand plants and animals."

"Understand like talk to them or read their thoughts?"

"Not - no. Just kind of... read them, I guess. And influence them," the girl said. "Sorry, I don't know how to explain it better."

Myka accepted this and latched on to the lowest branch. The Demeter girl helped her balance until she'd pulled herself completely up into the branches, and then held her sword when Myka realized it was getting in the way.

"Stay at least five feet from the top," the girl said. "Don't climb higher or you might break the tree."

The bark scratched and the slight breeze tried to push leaves into her mouth, but the branches made a decent ladder. It helped, too, that her hair was pinned down by the helmet and couldn't escape to tangle with the pointy oak leaves.

When Myka was about five or six feet from the top, she stopped and looked around. She had kept a tunnel-vision as she was climbing and so hadn't seen how high she had really gone. A swooping, reorientation feeling rushed through her stomach, and she gripped the tree tighter.

"What do you see?"

 _Trees._ Myka searched in the direction of the creek. She saw movement some movement in the leaves, and at first thought it was a burst of wind. But the ripple in leaves didn't move fast enough and only occurred within a contained strip. Myka watched it longer and decided something large was pushing its way through the forest.

Carefully, Myka climbed down and explained what she saw to the Demeter girl.

"Which direction?"

Myka pointed. The Demeter girl put her hands on the tree and closed her eyes. A splash of red and gold crossed Myka's vision, and she looked up into the tree. The leaves were changing from healthy green to autumn red and back again. It was almost like a blinking neon street sign.

"Are you doing that?"

"Yeah, I'm warning the team that there's a monster headed this way. The rest of my cabin will keep an eye out for it and call in reinforcements if need be."

"Is that something only the Demeter cabin knows?"

"Changing the leaves? Yeah, that's only us. The satyrs can control plants somewhat, too, though."

"No," Myka shook her head. "Understanding the signal, knowing what it means. Is that only for your cabin to understand?"

"Oh, yep." The girl smiled. "We change the signals every week like baseball catchers do. That way the other cabins can't figure it out and use it to their advantage. I mean, we use it to help whatever team we're on, but it's still only our signaling system. That's why we're almost always used as lookouts and guards during capture the flag."

Myka found this fascinating. She wondered how many signals they needed and if they were all communicated through changing the leaf colors or if they used other plants sometimes. The possibilities could be endless. Depending on their capabilities, they might never run out of new signals to use.

"You're already trying to figure out ways to use it, aren't you?"

"What?" Myka bit her lip and glanced away. "No."

The Demeter girl chuckled. "Gods, I bet you'll end up in Grant's cabin."

"Who?"

"Grant York, leader of Athena's cabin. You sound just like he did our first year here."

Myka's heart raced. This girl thought she would be claimed by Athena, goddess of wisdom and battle. Is that who her dad had meant by her real mom?

Wait a second. Wasn't there a monster coming their way? "Did you say something abo-" but she didn't get to finish asking it. Shouts and the clang of metal echoed through the trees, coming from where Myka had left the other first-years.

The Demeter girl grinned. "And red team tries to sneak in the other way. I don't think so." She passed Myka her sword back. "Let's go take them down."

****************

Myka's team ultimately lost the Capture the Flag game. The monster turned out to be a large, mechanical robot designed by Hephaestus and Athena cabins to distract. Then they sent half of their numbers to invade from the other direction while their main force snuck up the middle to take the flag. The Hermes traps hindered, but didn't stop them. Ares cabin was furious. They had been able to grab red team's flag, but didn't make it back over the creek first. For some reason, Chiron pulled Hephaestus cabin aside for what looked like a lecture after everything was done.

Despite the loss, Myka was fairly pleased. She'd gotten to spar in a pseudo-combat situation. The boy she'd fought had had the upper hand because he'd handled the uneven terrain better (she'd have to work on that), but she didn't think she'd fought like a person who'd only picked up a sword the day before. She considered that a personal triumph.

She was still giddy when she met up with Pete after dinner. Pete was just as wired.

"Holy smokes, wasn't that so awesome? It was like a full-on battle!"

"I know! I even knocked a guy down! And then he knocked me down. Or I tripped on a stick. They kind of happened at the same time."

"We beat you, though! Hee hee," Pete grinned. Myka stuck her tongue out at him and shoved his shoulder.

"Did you get to shoot anything?"

"Yeah I hit three people with nets! Booyah!" Pete broke into what Myka assumed was meant to be a victory dance, but it really just looked like a worm wiggling upright.

"How do you shoot nets?" And Pete explained about the arrows that looked like regular arrows but on their downward arc would pop into weighted nets to ensnare people. Myka was pretty sure by this point that demigods had the coolest weapons in existence. Pete was pretty sure that _he_ had the coolest weapons in existence.

He took her on a tour of his cabin. Pete pointed out all the skylights, and it did look pretty awesome. Like having the sky as the ceiling. The cabin also seemed to glow with sunlight on the inside, but Pete explained that wasn’t related to the skylights because it was that way at night, too.

“When it’s time for lights out, we can just clap our hands, you know like those commercials: Lights on.” Pete clapped twice. “Lights off.” He clapped again. “Only we don’t say lights off, we say sun off.” Then, he showed her his bunk.

“I don’t get the top bunk,” he pouted, “cause I’m new.” It still looked way more comfortable than Myka’s sleeping bag. Speaking of, Pete showed her what his cabin did with the sleeping bags new campers brought with them. They were sewn together and tied up in rolls along the walls.

“Sometimes, like once a week or something, we do these dance parties and the sleeping bags all come out and make like a tent. And then inside it we have a cabin party. They said it’s like music and dancing and story time and stuff. I dunno. I think my first one is tomorrow. I can’t wait!”

When he’d shown Myka everything he could think of, he dragged her outside to play basketball with some of the other Apollo kids. Being good at archery and hitting targets meant the Apollo children were also excellent at making baskets, but they were only average on every other aspect of basketball and Myka found she could keep well enough. It was fun and one of the older kids gave her a high five after a particularly good assist. All in all, it was an excellent Friday.

**************

The weekend schedule was much the same as the weekdays: breakfast in the mess hall, followed by whatever activity their cabin was scheduled for. Saturday morning had Jack taking the first-years still in his care to the arts and crafts tent. This did not house the usual arts and crafts one expected to find in a summer camp. There were no popsicle picture frames, no beaded necklaces. Instead there was tying nets, wood-carving, weaving, metal-working (though some of that took place in the forge as well). There was chariot building and painting. They even had an area for tearing apart and rebuilding electronics, though Jack warned communication devices like cell phones were bad to use outside of camp. The monsters could track you easier if you called someone with a phone. Even radios could be sketchy. But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t need to know how one worked or what parts could be salvaged from each device. They didn’t know what kind of an emergency they might find themselves in one day.

Most were bored and restless by lunchtime. Only Tyler and Myka were content to keep crafting, so Jack allowed them to stay in the tent for the afternoon too while he took the others on to the forge. Myka was studying a blueprint with a half-assembled transistor radio lying in front of her when she heard Tyler exclaim.

"No. No stop that. Stop!"

She frowned and looked over to the wood-carving table and saw Tyler clamping his hands over his carving while small branches and leaves grew out around and between his fingers.

"What'd you do?" She walked over.

"Nothing!" Tyler looked scared, and the leaves kept growing. Myka pried away his hands and saw he'd carved a face into the wood. Tyler broke down. "I just thought it'd be cool if my face had hair and then it started growing." The thin branches grew up towards the ceiling now that they were free. Myka watched them grow past her face.

"Please don't tell anyone. I'll get in trouble."

Myka looked at Tyler. He still looked panicked and seemed to want her to do something, but Myka had no idea what to do. She looked back at the branches now way too big to be considered hair for any head and picked up a wood-carving knife. She cut through the branches near the block of original wood until they were all trimmed off. Then, she took the branches over to the window and dropped them outside.

"It didn't happen," she told Tyler with a shake of her head. Tyler nodded and looked relieved.

Two days later, when they were out helping in the strawberry fields, Tyler was claimed. A scythe and ear of corn glowed bright in the air, marking him for Demeter's cabin.

**************

Myka couldn't sleep. Correction: couldn't sleep anymore. She'd been asleep, but had, for some reason, woken up in the middle of the night, and now she couldn't fall back asleep. Hermes cabin rose up dark and slumbering all around her except for the thin light leaking through the back wall. Myka had been staring at the light through blurry eyes for near ten minutes. Finally, she put on her glasses and crept back there. Gently, she slid open the door.

"Hi."

"You're still up," Helena said.

"You too." Myka stepped inside and slid the door closed so she wouldn't wake anybody up. "Do you ever go to sleep?"

"On occasion." Helena was on the bottom bunk with a scroll spread over her lap.

"What are you reading?"

"I'm trying to trace the origins of dyslexia in demigods," Helena said.

"I thought it was because our brains are looking for ancient Greek."

"Yes, that's the why, but I'm looking for the how," Helena said. "More specifically, how can it be undone."

Myka needed a few extra seconds to understand this through her sleepy haze. "You want to fix our dyslexia?"

Helena's eyes looked bright and alert. "Wouldn't that make reading so much easier? All those books we could read without hesitating, and cursive writing. It won't be scribbles anymore. It will be words."

That sounded amazing. Cursive writing in third grade had been a nightmare for Myka.

"It will make it easier on you at home, as well. I imagine living above a bookstore must have been difficult for you."

Myka frowned. "How do you know I live above a bookstore?"

"I talked to your friend Pete," Helena said.

"When did you talk to Pete?" But Helena didn't respond. She scooted down the bed and stood up beside her.

"May I see your glasses?" And then she took them off Myka's face before Myka could reply.

"Hey!"

Helena put the glasses on herself. "Are you blind?"

"Give them back!" Myka reached for them, but Helena turned towards the bed and, in this small of space, effectively blocked Myka.

"I need to see them first." Helena removed the glasses and turned them over in her hands, examining them at every angle. Myka bounced on her toes, anxious to have her glasses back safely and soon. Finally, Helena returned them. Myka slid them back on with relief.

"That might be the solution."

"What is?" Myka asked, but Helena was darting back onto the bottom bunk and rolling up the scroll she'd had out.

"I need to do more research." She placed the scroll on the bottom desk and rooted around for another one and then slid back to sit against the wall.

"Shouldn't we go to sleep?" Myka asked.

"You can sleep up top if you'd like."

Myka looked at the top bunk with its mattress and sheets. It definitely would be comfier than her sleeping bag, but that didn't really seem fair to the other kids currently sleeping in their sleeping bags. Myka wondered if she should return to the main room to go to sleep, but she realized she didn't want to go back out there yet. She compromised by sitting on the opposite end of the bottom bunk and pulling her legs to her chest. Helena didn't say anything against her choice. She didn't say anything at all, actually. She looked absorbed in her new scroll. Myka wondered what was in it, and if the scrolls were books written in ancient Greek, and where Helena had gotten hers.

Her eyes roamed the room. The space was well lit, including here in the bottom bunk. Somehow the top bunk didn't cast a shadow on it at all. This was even more confusing because Myka couldn't remember seeing a ceiling light in here, and there was certainly no lamps.

"I sectioned off this room for myself when I was eight," Helena said. Myka looked at her, and Helena continued. "I was in the sleeping bags my first summer, as is tradition. Then, summer ended and all but a very few were gone from camp. I had Hermes cabin all to myself and could sleep in the beds. The following summer, Cara, the cabin leader at the time, kicked me back to the sleeping bags because I was the youngest. I was furious and protested to Chiron, to Mr. D and to anyone else that would listen, but Chiron leaves cabin disputes to the cabin leaders and Mr. D doesn't care about individual campers, so Cara's order stood. I was an unclaimed eight year old, the sleeping bag was where I belonged. When that summer ended, I was once again alone in the cabin. So I slid a bed to the corner and installed the false wall to block off my own room. Nobody even realized I'd done it until the campers returned the following summer and they were short one bed. They shouted, they beat at my door, but I refused to give it up. Might have even sliced through a few hands that tried to push through my doorway. Eventually, they surrendered and left me to it. The room is mine."

Myka twisted a curl around her finger. "You're all by yourself during the year?"

"Just in the cabin. There's a Demeter boy and twin girls from Aphrodite that stay year-round. And the Hephaestus children are often here because there's so much to do."

"That's still pretty alone."

"Not so different than the summer, really," Helena said and returned her attention to her scroll.

Myka still twisted her hair. After a moment, she said, "Tyler got claimed today. You know Tyler? The blonde-haired boy that came the day after me and Pete?"

"Yes. He went to Demeter, didn't he?"

"Yeah. And Pete's in Apollo."

"And Sabrina will be claimed by Ares soon, I expect. Whenever she does something particularly noteworthy," Helena said. "The gods do like a spectacle. Not sure where Dresdon or Molly will go. Maybe they won't. Maybe they'll stay right here for many years."

Myka chewed her lip. "What about me?"

Helena kept her eyes on her scroll. "Hard to say."

"Someone thought I'd end up in Athena's cabin."

Helena didn't look like she was reading the scroll anymore. "I repeat, it's hard to say. Lots of cabins want you."

"Want me? What are you talking about?"

"The cabins always rank the new campers until they're claimed. You're quite popular right now. Demeter likes you, Hephaestus likes you, Athena likes you - Ares doesn't like you, but they don't bother with the new kids. They expect Ares children will come to them. However, Jack has rather high hopes you'll be made a permanent resident here."

"What? He doesn't want me to be claimed?"

"No, he wants Hermes to claim you. I think he's rather jealous Rebecca got Pete. You and he were the most promising of the bunch." Helena flicked her eyes up to Myka. "I wouldn't repeat that around the others. Ares children can get rather nasty when you damage their pride."

"But..." Myka didn't know how to process any of this. "But why do they want me? It's not like they have any say in it."

"No," Helena said. "But one can always hope."

Myka went to bed not long after that. The talk of claiming made her nervous and the grey before the sunrise reminded her of the sleep she'd missed.

Over the next week, she was introduced to more aspects of demigod life. Chiron began taking them into the woods during the mornings to explain about the different monsters and how to defeat them. He even summoned examples for them to see. Myka's knee ached when he summoned an amphisbaena. Her scab was still healing.

Her afternoons were spent with different cabins. Hephaestus took the first-years one day to give them hands-on experience in the forge hammering out swords and shields. Another day, the girl who rescued Pete from the lake showed them the pegasus stables. Pete was devastated Myka had had a lesson in the stables before he did, but he took back that disappointment back once he learned the lesson was cleaning out the stalls. Later in the week, Myka finally met some members of the Athena cabin as they taught the first-years the Greek myths and history they may not have heard elsewhere. Most of it was redundant to Myka, but the other kids were largely clueless. Even some older campers walking by would stop on occasion and say "Wait, what happened?" at the current story being told. Apparently not everyone grew up obsessively reading a Greek mythology book.

And more claimings took place during this time. First, as Helena had predicted, Sabrina was claimed with the great sword of Ares. The next day, the quiet Molly was claimed by Apollo, and it was only Dresdon and Myka left.

And then it was only Myka.

She blinked in shock at the opaque cloud that had suddenly surrounded Dresdon. Nothing had prompted it as far as she could see. One second Dresdon had been cheering up this boy who'd been upset over volleyball, and the next second he was in a giant tube of cloud. A crowd formed as word spread. It was a solid two minutes before the cloud dissipated. What emerged shocked Myka again. Dresdon was dressed in completely different clothes. He frowned and looked down at his new dark blue jeans and pink Aeropostale polo shirt. His frown turned into a grin.

"Oh my gosh I've wanted these shoes forever!" he exclaimed and hopped up and down. Myka didn't see anything special about them. They looked like oversized tennis shoes that didn't seem to truly be designed for sports use. Then, Dresdon must have sensed his hair was shorter, because his hands flew up to his hair and discovered the spiky gel look he was now sporting. He looked thrilled with that, too, and kept tentatively patting the tips.

"Run your hand through it," someone said. "It won't mess up." Dresdon tried it, first pushing it back and then scrubbing his head roughly with his fingers. His hair bounced right back.

People started cheering and some walked over to congratulate him. Myka stood back feeling puzzled and wondering what sort of demigod makeover she had just witnessed.

"Aphrodite's Blessing," Helena said, suddenly appearing beside her. She tipped her in consideration. "I've never seen it on a son before."

"Aphrodite's Blessing. So, he's..."

"In Aphrodite's cabin now?" Helena turned to her. "Yes."

"Oh. ... That was a weird claiming."

"Aphrodite knows her children like to look their best, so when she claims them, she graces them for a period with whatever their idea of 'the best' is. He won't be able to change from that for at least a week." Then, Helena switched topics, "I believe I've found the solution to our dyslexia."

"What?" Myka said. "Seriously? What is it?"

Helena smiled. "I'll tell you once it works."

Myka only managed a partial smile in return. She looked back at Dresdon and the group of Aphrodite children welcoming their newest sibling.

_Only me now._


	6. Bering

The next morning, Myka woke up to find her glasses missing from their designated spot just beside her head. She checked all around her sleeping bag and backpack, checked all through the cabin. She asked the other kids about them, but no one had seen her glasses. They had disappeared.

Jack didn't let anyone leave for breakfast. "If anyone has taken Myka's glasses, you need to give them back right now. This isn't a practical joke." The kids glanced at each other or stared passively at Jack. No one fessed up. "Okay now, if anyone knows of somebody in another cabin who may have taken Myka's glasses, give me the names."

An older boy Myka was never introduced to spoke up, "Ares is still ticked off we lost the game last week."

"Ares doesn't steal," Leann said. "Beside why would they pick on a firstie?"

"Maybe it's one of the cabins who want her," said a girl still sitting on her top bunk. "You know and they're trying to steal her away bit by bit."

"By stealing her glasses first?"

Jack shook his head. "Okay look, if anyone hears anything around camp, report it back to me. Go on to the mess hall."

Leann muttered as they left, "Steal her away in pieces?"

"It could happen!" the other girl said.

Jack walked over to Myka. "Come on, we can talk to Chiron at breakfast."

Myka shook her head. She didn't want to walk around camp when she could barely see five feet in front of her.

"It'll be okay. If anyone took your glasses, Chiron will get them back."

"No, I'm not hungry. I just want to stay here."

"Okay," Jack gave in. "We'll be at the archery field today when you want to find us."

Myka nodded, and Jack left. She sat down on the floor and searched through her sleeping bag and backpack again even though she knew her glasses weren't there. She looked around the blurry room and tried not to cry. Maybe someone had put her glasses in one of the hidden slots in the walls. Myka searched every hideaway she'd found the week before, and even one she found new, but her glasses weren't in any of them.

She knocked on the back wall. "Helena?" Myka hadn't seen her with the rest of the cabin earlier. Then again, Myka never saw her with the rest of the cabin. She knocked again. "Helena?" She slid open the door when she didn't get a   
response. Helena's beds were empty. She must have left the cabin before everyone had woken up. Myka wondered if Helena had taken her glasses. She had stolen her book once.

A surface examination (a close surface examination, Myka had to squint and lean in pretty near) showed no glasses on either of the desks. They could have been hidden or tucked beneath something, but that would have required   
rummaging through Helena's stuff which felt wrong. Dejected, Myka returned to her corner on the floor and curled up with _Treasure Island_.

Pete visited after the lunch bell rang.

"You lost your glasses."

Myka nodded. "Or someone took them."

"What? Why would they do that?"

Myka shrugged. Pete sat down in front of her and held out a paper container. "I brought you food since you can't see."

Myka accepted the container and smiled. "Thanks." Inside sat barbecue, corn, a fork and a cookie all jumbled together like Pete had packed it himself. She carefully picked up the fork, licked the barbeque off the handle and started eating.

"Are you going to come out for the water-balloon fight?" Pete asked.

"There's a water-balloon fight?"

"Yeah! Shanna's putting it on," Pete said. "Which probably means she'll win. Do you know that she can breathe underwater? Isn't that cool?"

"No, but I know Demeter kids can change the colors of the trees."

"Man, I can't do anything cool like that. But Molly can. She got a cut on her finger and healed it right up in a few seconds. It was like she never cut it. I didn't know my cabin can do that, but Rebecca said our dad is also the god of medicine so I guess it makes sense."

Myka thought it was weird to hear Pete say "dad" when she knew he meant the Greek god Apollo. Very strange and weird.

"It didn't work when I tried it, though," Pete held up his finger, and Myka squinted at it. She could just make out a band-aid on the tip.

"Did you cut yourself on purpose?"

"Just a little one! I wanted to try healing it up, but I couldn't do it. I guess we don't all have the same powers."

Myka chewed another bite of food. "Do you want my cookie?"

"I already had two." But Myka suspected there was a look of longing on his face behind the blurriness. She compromised by breaking the cookie in half and giving him the piece that had sat in the barbecue sauce. He happily hummed as he munched on it.

"Mmm, barbecue and chocolate go good together."

Myka scrunched up her nose. "Gross!" Pete opened his mouth to show off the chewed up combination, and Myka was glad she was without her glasses. She giggled anyway and shoved him with her foot.

Pete asked about the water-balloon fight again before he left, but Myka declined. So he left on his own, and Myka settled back against the wall in the empty cabin.

It was a couple of hours later, and Myka was reading _Treasure Island_ again. She would have finished the book long before now, but she was mainly staring at the pages and wishing she knew where her glasses were.

Footsteps echoed to her. Myka blinked and squinted up. She hadn't noticed the door opening.

It was Helena, or someone else with a similar height and hair color. She knelt down in front of Myka and held out something. "I found your glasses."

"Oh my gosh!" Myka grabbed them and checked them over. They looked intact and unbent. "Thank you so much! Where were they?"

"Do they work alright?"

Myka put them on. The lenses weren't scratched or smudged, nothing impaired her vision. "Yeah, they're fine. I can't believe you found them."

"But can you read with them?" Helena tapped on her book. Myka frowned down at the pages. The words looked a little funny, but they always look a little funny to her because they're scra-

The letters were in order.

Myka blinked. She stared closely at the words with panic rising inside her. Had she forgotten how to spell? Had she become too used to everything being blurry and now seeing clearly confused her? "Um..."

"It's different, isn't it?" Helena said.

Myka's eyes flitted across the page. "It's.. normal." Or what she imagined normal looked like to children who weren't dyslexic or weren't demigods, though it looked wrong and disorienting to Myka. "I.. it's right. The letters don't move. I can read it." She looked up at Helena, and it took her eyes a moment to adjust from the unmoving type to the regular world. "Did you do that?"

Helena looked nervous. "Sort of."

A burst of wind blew open the cabin door startling the two girls. Myka rose up to close it. She pushed against the door, but the wind was too strong and pushed it back open. Myka's hair whipped off her face, but the sky outside looked clear and no tree moved in the distance. "What in the world?" She squinted against the wind and walked outside to find out where it was coming from.

The wind died down immediately. Myka looked around confused. She would have thought she had imagined the wind except that kids who had been playing in the lake or walking through the cabins were looking her way and walking over.

"What was that?" She asked Helena. Helena gave her a small smile.

"Congratulations."

"What?"

Helena tilted her head. "Look up." Myka did, and her stomach jolted when she saw the golden mark of claiming floating above her head. She couldn't see it properly, but it looked like an owl. 

"Is that Athena's symbol?" Nothing. "Helena?" Myka looked over to Helena for confirmation, but Helena was gone.

***********************

It didn't take long for the Athena cabin to be contacted and for the leader Grant Yorker to show up in front of Myka. Grant was old, like high-school level old at least, and he was black and tall and... yep. Very, very tall. He grinned and shook her hand. "We were hoping you were one of ours. Welcome to the family, Myka!"

He helped her carry her belongings across the field to the Athena cabin.

"Welcome to your new home away from home," Grant said as they entered. Outside, the cabin had been made of bricks, small ones like in a city, but pale like a school. It had looked old and even mossy. The inside, however, looked brand new. In the front of the cabin, sections of the walls folded out into beds, some near the ground and others lofted. When the beds were folded up, small tables could be folded out and collapsible stools were stored in a cabinet by the door. The back wall was covered in built-in cubby-holes filled with scrolls of varying ages. There was something that looked like a combination of a table and an easel that Grant explained was a drafting table. The walls glowed without any obvious source of light much like Helena's room. Myka asked about it, and Grant said a special mineral from Olympus had been infused with the wood that allowed it to glow.

"Hephaestus is the only other cabin with this kind of wall, and that's because their dad invented it." Hephaestus and part of Hermes cabin, Myka thought.

There were four other people in Athena cabin. Myka recognized Bailey Nevin and Jordan MacKenna from the mythology lessons. The other two were introduced as Kevin Santiago and Katina Long. Each member had a specialty: Grant was the camp historian, Bailey was a brilliant crafter who could bring any design to life, Jordan was an expert on theology and philosophy, Kevin was a master designer and architect ("Just don't ask him to say encyclopedia, no seriously, don't."), and Katina was the cabin's strategist and even the camp's head strategist if ever the entire camp was threatened. Myka listened to all of this, tightened her grip on her backpack straps, and tried to look like she belonged.

"There's totally more to the cabin," Bailey said, as if Myka didn't look impressed enough.

"More?" Myka glanced to the back wall. "Like I can look at the scrolls?" She was itching to finally read one for herself.

Her new cabinmates grinned. "In a minute," Bailey said. "Check this out first." She walked to certain spots and began pulling on discreet handles in the floor. First a bookcase pulled out, then another and another.

"The cabins can't ever be added on to make them bigger or taller because it would be an insult to Zeus," Bailey explained. "He always has to have the largest cabin. However, the gods don't care if we expand the cabin down into the ground, and so," she gestured at the bookcases. "Hidden library in the floor."

"Technically, we could tick off Hades if we ever built low enough to infringe upon the Underworld," Jordan said. "But it's so deep below the surface, it's not a major concern. We just can't have a hundred basement levels."

There was still more. Bailey slid all the bookcases back into the floor (Myka would be lying if she said she wasn't sad to see all those books disappear below the floorboards). Then, Grant pulled on a handle in the center of the cabin floor and brought up a large table folded in half. As it was unfolded and set-up properly, Myka could see it was a model of a forest complete with elevation changes and a stream cutting through the middle.

“Is this the forest in camp?”

“Yep,” Katina said. “Every tree, every rock, every hill - all measured and laid out to scale. We use it to plan for Capture the Flag every week.” The table also had drawers that stored figures to represent campers from the other cabins and blue and red flags. Myka thought she could study the table for hours and not be bored. Bailey laughed.

“Look at how her face has lit up. I love saving the war table for last.”

“So,” Grant said, “what were you doing when you were claimed? Since we missed it.”

“Yeah, thanks for waiting for us, Mom,” Bailey muttered.

“Um.” Myka didn’t think she’d been doing anything special at the time, but she described the burst of wind that lured her outside.

“But what were you doing just before the wind?” Jordan asked. “We record everyone’s claiming to help us identify the new Athena demigods when they come in. Some demigods are easy to spot right away, but our cabin is… more difficult to peg.”

“Subtle,” Katina said. “I prefer subtle.”

“So we usually have to wait until the claiming to take the new ones under our wings,” Jordan finished. “So any details you can give us would be helpful.”

“Oh,” Myka said. “Well, Helena had just found my glasses and given them back to me.”

“Your glasses?” Bailey held out her hand. “May I see them?”

Myka didn’t want to be separated from her glasses again so soon after getting them back, but in one sense, these people were her siblings, so she surrendered her glasses for Bailey to examine. Bailey took a couple of minutes to look them over.

“She’s checking to see if they were blessed,” Grant explained.

“And they definitely were,” Bailey said. “These are not normal glasses anymore. Have you noticed anything different in your sight yet?”

“Reading. The words in my book didn’t scramble anymore.”

“Really?” Bailey picked up a book off one of the fold-out tables and looked at it through Myka’s glasses. “Holy smokes that’s weird.”

“What? What does it look like?” Kevin crowded next to Bailey while the others craned their heads, but stayed put.

“Just like she said, the words aren’t scrambled,” Bailey said. She asked Myka, “May I try it without the lenses?”

“Um.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t break them. I’ll be able to put them right back together.”

“She will,” Grant said. “It’ll be okay.”

So Myka allowed Bailey to dismantle her glasses and look through the frames only. The result was the same: the words didn’t scramble like they were all accustomed to. But remove the frames, and the dyslexia was right back.

“That’s pretty cool,” Bailey said, handing back Myka’s reassembled glasses. “And it’s good that it’s the frames that are blessed. If you ever get contacts, you can just keep the frames for reading.”

“Not as handy as a blessed sword or knife,” Katina said.

“That’s what you said about my blessed pen,” Kevin said.

“And your pen isn’t as handy either.”

“It can draw my thoughts without me even having to touch it. How is that not useful?”

Grant let them argue and took the opportunity to show Myka which bed was hers so she could put her backpack down. She was still in the front of the cabin and the bed was low to the ground, but it had a real mattress. No sheets, though. Grant said they keep pooling money to go buy sheets, but then they find new books or drafting supplies and buy that instead. They used their sleeping bags in place of real sheets and used double-stick velcro to prevent the sleeping bag from slipping off the slick camp mattresses. After her bed was set up, they still had an hour before dinner. Grant decided it was a good time to get Myka fitted for a sword. Apparently the ones in the armory were for practice, and when demigods were claimed, they got to be fitted with better weapons that would belong only to them. Jordan and Katina tagged along, claiming Grant wouldn’t know a good sword from a tree branch since he preferred fighting with a spear.

The cache of “official” weapons was in the forge where, as Grant explained, the Hephaestus cabin could keep a better watch over it. Inside the storeroom were racks and racks of weapons on display like a general store. The older ones walked right in and began examining the swords hanging on the wall.

“Wait, you’re twelve, right?” Grant asked.

“Eleven.”

“Hmm,” Grant hummed while seeming to size up her height. There was some discussion between the three, each pointing at different swords. Grant said something that made Jordan groan “I know!”. Myka took the time to observe the knives hanging to her right. There was a particularly nasty looking one with a deeply serrated edge and a small hook on the end.

Finally, Katina exclaimed, “Ah, look at this beauty!” She held up something tiny that looked nothing like a sword. “I don’t know who Hephaestus cabin thought they were saving this for by tucking it behind those katanas, but we are taking it.”

Myka walked closer. “That looks like a stick.” It wasn’t any larger than an ink pen.

Katina smiled. “That’s what makes it beautiful. It’s based off another sword.”

“Anaklusmos,” Grant said. “Or Riptide in today’s English.”

“Exactly,” Katina said. “Riptide can shrink down into what looks like an ordinary ink pen. Uncap it and it extends into the full sword.”

“It also can never be lost,” Jordan said. “If you’re disarmed or separated from Riptide, it will show up in your pocket a few seconds later.”

“But this sword isn’t magical like Riptide, is it?” Grant asked.

“No,” Katina said. “Obviously, we couldn’t duplicate that, but..” She backed away from them and then pressed something on the stick and it sprang into a full sword. She held it out in the air and then balanced it on her hand. “Emmy must have forged this herself. It’s perfect!” She grinned at Myka. “Come on, let’s go outside and try it out.”

They let Myka swing the sword for a bit, and then they took her to the armory to let her try landing hits with it. Myka had thought the armory swords had felt good, but swinging this one felt more natural than walking. She was surprised by how sturdy it was. It didn’t look or feel anything like a collapsible sword, yet with a press of the button on the hilt, it swiftly folded up into a small cylinder. She was breathless when she finished testing it.

“That was amazing!”

The other three all smiled. “Looks like we found your sword, then,” Grant said. Jordan and Katina cheered.

************************

Myka searched the Hermes table for Helena during dinner, but, as usual, she wasn’t there. Pete was though, and after they were done eating, he ran over to her.

“You’re in Athena now? That’s so cool!” Pete said. “Everyone says that’s the really smart cabin cause Athena is the goddess of wisdom. Do you like it?”

“I love it! They have bookcases that pop out of the floor!”

Pete started fake snoring like he’d fallen asleep. Myka frowned and punched his shoulder. “Meanie!” He laughed.

“You’re a nerdy god.”

“Demigod,” Myka corrected.

“You still got it from your mom.”

And her dad owned a bookstore and had read almost every book ever written, so she’d probably gotten some of it from him too. Wait… how did that work? Myka decided she didn’t want to know and shoved all musings on gods’ relationships with mortals away. Far, far away.

"Do wanna come play or are you going to hang out with her new cabin?" Pete asked.

"Huh? Oh." Myka looked back to her cabin and then looked across to Apollo's. "I'm, I'll hang out here. At my cabin."

"Okay, see ya later." She watched Pete walk back to his cabin. He was probably going to play in the lake again. Or hang out with his siblings. There were a lot of scrolls she could look through. And a lot of books that she could read without pausing to untangle a word.

Her eyes flicked from the Apollo cabin down to Hermes cabin. She needed to thank Helena properly for finding her glasses. Maybe she was in her room.

Myka felt uneasy upon entering the Hermes cabin. She hadn't even slept at her new home, and she already felt out of place here. She walked back to Helena's door and knocked.

“I’m busy and have no desire to be interrupted,” Helena said through the wall.

Myka blinked. “I.. I just wanted to say thank you for finding my glasses.”

“You already thanked me.”

Myka fidgeted. “I’m in Athena cabin now.”

“I know.”

“They have glowing walls like you do.”

“I know.”

Myka searched for something to say. “Have you heard of the sword Riptide? They gave me a sword that’s collapsible like it.”

“You do not have Riptide,” Helena cut in.

“No, I know. But they said it’s similar.”

“Myka, I’m busy. Would you please come back later?”

“Oh.” Myka’s chest felt heavy. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

************************

Myka trained with her new cabin. The day after her claiming, the camp played Capture the Flag again. This time, Myka's side consisted of Athena, Poseidon, Ares, and Dionysus cabins, and Myka was clued in to her team's strategy. Her job was to scout on their side of the creek for the other team sneaking through via a route they hadn't anticipated. Bailey gave her a bronze disk about the size of a half-dollar. If she spotted an ambush, she was supposed to press a button in the middle and it would send the disk spinning into the air and shoot out red sparks.

"I got the idea from Harry Potter," Bailey said. "We may not have magic wands, but we still have demigod ingenuity, right?"

Myka grinned.

Unfortunately, she didn't get to use Bailey's warning system during the game. The only ambush she found was a lone Apollo boy. He was a sword-fighter too (surprisingly), and more experienced, but his instincts didn't seem as strong as Myka's. When he saw he wouldn't get around her easily, he retreated.

Later in her scouting, she caught a glimpse of black hair and pale skin darting between trees. "Helena?" Myka rushed after her. The girl halted and spun around. It was definitely Helena. "Helena, hey. Hi. What.. what are you doing?"

Helena stared for a moment, not responding, and then she took off running again. Myka followed, forgetting they were on different teams and only feeling hurt at being ignored. The chase took her up a hill. As she crested the top, she lost Helena's trail. She searched all around, but Helena had entirely disappeared.

************************

"Who's Helena?" Pete asked as they talked after the game.

"Helena Wells, the girl who lives in the back of Hermes cabin."

Pete crinkled his forehead. "Leann?"

"No, not the bunks," Myka said. "I mean behind the back wall."

"What?"

"She's the girl who threw knives at me during sword practice."

"Oh! Helena's that person?" Pete said. "And you wanna know why she doesn't like you?"

Myka nodded. "I think she's mad at me."

"Well, if she threw knives at you, then she's a jerk," Pete said.

"She wasn't trying to be mean."

"She threw knives at you _and_ isn't talking to you. That's mean."

"But she found my glasses for me," Myka said. Pete considered this piece of evidence, and then gave a clueless shrug. Myka sighed.

************************

Saturday was a big day for Myka.

She stood before the back wall of Athena's cabin, eyes scanning over the cubbyholes, and hummed.

Today was the day she got to read the scrolls.

"I'd like to read about claiming, please."

Grant chuckled. "That's most people's first pick. Those scrolls are over here." He directed her to a cubbyhole in the second row from the right near Myka's waist. It contained four scrolls that Myka carefully picked up and brought over to a table. She'd already pulled a stool out from the cabinet.

"Just a warning," Grant said as she went to unroll the first one. "Reading about claiming won't give you any insight into how to make contact with the gods. The gods have to be careful about when they speak with their demigod children. Mom's not any different. She'll only contact you when she needs to, and it probably won't be in person. But she does love us. Remember that she blessed your glasses."

Myka flicked her fingertip against the paper edge of the scroll. "Okay. Um, I just wanted to read about the symbols."

Grant smiled. "Okay. Have fun." He patted her shoulder and moved to another table to work on his own business.

Myka took a minute to dive into the scrolls. She really had never considered speaking Athena as a person - as her mom. Athena was a Greek goddess and still only the stuff of stories despite everything Myka had seen at the camp. Talking to her was just - unfeasible. But if it was possible....

Myka flicked the thought away. She didn't want to speak to Athena. She wanted to read about claiming. She unrolled the first scroll and started doing just that.

************************

Myka had tired of sitting by the third scroll and had moved to her bed to sprawl out. So far she had learned every god's symbol for claiming, what happens when a god claims multiple children at once, and the frequency each god claims their demigods. The minor gods were the slowest at claiming their children with the average wait time of two years. Hermes was the fastest at claiming his children with everyone being claimed in their first summer at camp, and the majority being claimed their first week. The reason for this, as suggested by Athena children years earlier, was Hermes being the god of travel made him more aware of the demigods movements and he was clued in sooner to when they arrived at camp. Myka had also discovered that Hephaestus was the most scattered when it came to siring demigods and claiming them. His children usually found their way to camp in batches every 30 years or so. The suggested explanation for this phenomenon was Hephaestus would become too focused on a personal project in his forge and ignore the mortal world until it was finished. Then he would resurface for a break before the next project. Basically interacting with the mortal world and creating demigod children was his form of vacation. Myka raised her eyebrow at this. The gods were weird.

Athena had no special note about her claims. She usually prompt with her claims. She had enough children to always have a handful at camp every summer. She didn't have any weird trends.

Myka's mind drifted back to what Grant had said about talking to the gods. The concept felt odd. Gods weren't for talking to in normal conversations. Gods were who you prayed to when you really wanted something or were in serious trouble. You asked for their help. You didn't chat with them. And even if you did, Myka didn't have anything she wanted to talk to Athena about.

Did she have something to pray about? Being claimed? _Dear Athena, thank you for claiming me. ... Thank you for blessing my glasses._ Even though reading was still weird with them. It would take some time to adjust to the words not being jumbled up. And hopefully the headaches would go away too. Myka rubbed her temple. She'd had headaches when she first got glasses until her eyes adjusted. Maybe this was the same thing. Hopefully, anyway. At least she knew those nights of silently crying in her room over her homework would disappear. Now she'd be able to find her spelling mistakes without the shame of asking for help. The headache might be worth it for that trade-off. _Thank you again for blessing my glasses._

She wondered how blessings worked. Was it necessary for her glasses to go missing for half a day beforehand? Couldn't Athena bless them from afar instead of stealing them?

Myka stood up to search the cubbyholes again. If they had scrolls on claiming, surely they had scrolls on blessed items too. It only took a few minutes for Myka to discover that yes, they did have scrolls on blessed items, and they were stored two shelves above the claiming ones. She carted them over to her bed to read.

Apparently, blessed items simply had a way of showing up amongst the demigod's possessions. Or it was passed along through Chiron. As far as Myka could see, the gods didn't have to steal items in order to bless them. So why had her glasses disappeared?

.

Oh.

.

Myka looked up towards the door in the direction that Hermes cabin would be if the wall didn't block her view. Helena had taken her glasses. To have them blessed? That seemed as uncommon and unlikely as a god stealing demigod possessions, but it made more sense than Athena taking them.

The lunch bell rang. Myka returned the scrolls to their rightful cubbyholes and came to a decision. She may not be able to set up a conversation with a god, but she could track down Helena.


	7. Wells

Myka went to Hermes cabin after lunch. Helena wasn't in her room, of course, so Myka sat down on the bottom bunk and waited. Helena would have to return at some point.

An hour later, Myka was bored and a little anxious that she was skipping a camp activity to sit here. But it was only a basketball tournament, not training or chores, so she didn't think she'd be in too much trouble. She distracted herself by investigating Helena's scroll collection. It was fascinating. Helena had scrolls on weaponry and forging, and then she had scrolls of her own handwritten notes. They weren't diaries - Myka wouldn't have read those. They were homemade technical manuals and lab journals. Apparently, Helena spent a lot of time experimenting with her own weapons.

She lost track of time reading about Helena's inventions. She was halfway through the design plans for a grappling gun when the dinner bell rang. Myka jerked her head towards the door at the sound. She had hoped to see Helena, but clearly she wouldn't return until after dinner. Myka began rolling up the scrolls to place them back on the desk where she'd found them.

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh geez!" Myka startled and her hand slipped on the bed and she nearly fell off before she regained her balance. Helena stood by the door, her arms crossed over her chest.

"I'm sorry!" Myka said. She quickly dropped the scrolls on the desk, but one tried to roll off and she had to lunge for it to set it right. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I wanted to talk to you, but then you were gone a long time and I got caught up in your designs, and I'm sorry." She hopped off the bed apologetically.

"Why did you want to talk to me?" Helena asked.

Myka's heart still raced from being caught. "Um, because. Because you weren't talking to me, and I wanted to know why."

Helena didn't show if she was mad or not. But she must have been because she also wasn't bouncy or energetic like the previous times Myka had seen her.

Helena said, "Possibly because you're known for breaking and entering."

Myka frowned. "No, I'm not. This wasn't.. you - you, I was looking for you."

"And I wasn't here, and then you waited and went through my things." Helena hoisted herself up on the top bunk and situated herself at the second desk.

Okay, Myka could see where breaking and entering could be applied. "Did you steal my glasses?"

"What?" Helena stared at her.

"Before they were blessed, did you steal them?" Myka asked. "Or did you just find them and give them back to me?"

Helena paused before answering. "I borrowed them because I thought you would like to read."

"I always could read."

"Read without any struggling."

Myka twisted her forefingers against each other. "Did you have my glasses blessed?"

"It wasn't terribly exciting," Helena said. "I never saw your mother or anything."

"But you asked for my glasses to be blessed," Myka confirmed. "That's kind of a big deal."

Helena shrugged.

"Thank you for doing that. They work really goo- well."

"You shouldn't thank me," Helena said. "Your mother didn't do it because I asked. She did it because she wanted to claim you. It had nothing to do with me."

Myka contemplated if this was true.

"Do you like the Athena cabin?"

"Oh yeah! I love it! The cabin's really nice and I got to read all about claiming and blessings today. And I was going to read about the history of the camp next, but now I kind of want to read more about the different kinds of swords. And Katina's going to let me work with the war table tomorrow."

Helena was turned to face her now. She didn't look as mad. "They do have a rather nice war table."

Myka nodded and smiled. "It's so cool. Katina's going to teach me about battle strategy."

"It won't take much," Helena said. "You'll be a natural with strategy."

"Because Athena is the goddess of war and strategy." Myka had read about demigod traits, too. The claiming scrolls listed some information on traits. "Helena, who're your parents?"

"I don't have parents."

"But you know what you're good at, especially because you've been here so long," Myka said. "Doesn't that tell you which god you're related to?"

Helena smirked. "Of course it doesn't. You're forgetting, I'm good at everything."

"Nuh uh."

"I am, too." Helena hopped back down to the floor to stand in front of Myka. "I'm too good at everything I try. It isn't helpful in the slightest to determine my parentage."

Myka huffed. "Well, you're bad at being humble."

"We're demigods. Humility has no use in our world."

Myka ignored that. "And you're good at stealing things."

Helena rolled her eyes. "No, I'm not. This is a camp full of children. Stealing from the others here isn't difficult enough to judge my skill level."

"So, I should make it harder for you to steal from me."

Helena grinned. "You can try." Myka grinned, too.

"But you have to be better at some things."

Helena shook her head. "I don't belong with any of them. I'm nobody's child, and I like it better that way."

"No, you don't." Myka hadn't. She much preferred knowing for sure she was in Athena's cabin.

"I do." Helena pulled herself back onto the top bunk and sat on the edge. "Besides, what cabin could offer my own room with two beds and two desks? None of them. This is better."

Myka glanced around the narrow room. The double-decker desks were pretty cool, and Helena had full sheets on her beds instead of sleeping bags. But she was also by herself and didn't know who had made her a demigod or why she had certain tendencies.

Maybe Helena could tell Myka wasn't convinced, or maybe she wanted to do work instead of talk. "You should eat before dinner is over."

"Oh, right. Okay." Myka shuffled to the door. "Um, see you later?"

Helena smiled and nodded. "I'll see you later."

Myka still thought about Helena as she scooted through the line for dinner. She hesitated at the fire for her sacrifice and decided to try something. She closed her eyes and thought really hard as she scraped some food into the flames.

_Please help Helena so she's not lonely. Please claim her._

***********************

Myka was high up, flying somewhere or maybe just watching somebody fly. She couldn't feel any wind against her face. Hadn't she been asleep?

Some man flew beside her. He had a messenger bag slung across his chest that stayed resting at his hip. It didn't succumb to gravity and hang down. Myka frowned at it.

"Your mother sent me to you," the man said. "She informed me you were angry with me."

Myka didn't know why her mom would think she was angry. She liked camp now. She wasn't mad about being sent away anymore, if she ever had been. She thought she had just been scared. It had all happened really fast.

"Not your step-mother. Athena," the man said. "Your real mother."

Myka focused on the man. Her real mom had talked to him. Was this Athena's way of talking to her? Was this one of those prophecy dreams she had read about? Demigods had those when something big was going on. But what something big was happening? She'd already been claimed.

"I don't know why I'm talking to you either," the man said. "Your mother wouldn't say. She said you had a problem with me and I needed to speak with you. So why are you so angry with me? What could I have possibly done to offend such a young demigod like you? You've hardly been around yet."

"I don't know."

The man huffed.

"I'm sorry, I don't know," Myka repeated. She was waking up now. Not waking up from the dream, waking up, but her mind felt less groggy. "I didn't say I was mad at anyone."

"Then what did you pray to your mother about?"

Myka thought back to the last thing she prayed about. She hadn't sent any requests to her mom. She didn't have a clear idea of how to use prayers and sacrifices, so she'd just been saying thank you. She didn't have anything to ask for.

"Helena," she remembered.

"Helena?"

Myka nodded. "I asked the gods to help Helena."

"Helena Wells?" the man said. "What does Helena need help with? She seems self-sufficient to me."

"She doesn't know which cabin she's supposed to be in because she's never been claimed," Myka said. "I think she's sad. We were both unclaimed, and then I was claimed and she didn't talk to me for a while. I think she wants to know who her dad or mom is even though she says she likes her room."

The man was silent for a time, and he straightened like he was standing in midair. Myka glanced around and realized they weren't flying anymore. They were hovering. For a moment, she panicked and wondered if they were going to fall. She hated the falling dreams.

"Helena's been claimed," the man said.

"Really?" Myka forgot about the haunting falling sensation. "Just now?"

"No, she was claimed years ago."

Myka frowned and slowly shook her head. "No. No she wasn't. Everyone said she's not claimed."

"She's in Hermes cabin where she's supposed to be."

"Because we're all in Hermes cabin until we're claimed."

The man looked stern. "Myka, I've claimed her already."

 _Oh._ Myka's eyes widened and a sliver of fear that had nothing to do with hanging in midair crept through her chest. This man wasn't some random dream figure. It was Hermes himself. She'd been talking to a god.

"I don't know why you think she hasn't been claimed, but if that's the only issue you had, then I'll let you go back to sleep."

"No! Wait!" Myka said. "But she really hasn't been claimed. She doesn't know you're her dad. No one does. Jack didn't know either, and he would know if she's supposed to be in your cabin."

Hermes looked upset. "But I did claim her."

Myka shook her head. "No, you didn't. Or you did and no one saw, maybe."

"Nobody misses a claiming."

Myka didn't know how to argue with a god. "I'm sorry. She doesn't know you're her dad."

Hermes stared at her. "Go home."

Myka woke up.

The room was dark. Myka struggled with her sleeping bag as she sat up. She looked around. The cabin was still asleep. She was still at camp, and she wasn't sure if she had really just spoken with the Greek god Hermes or if that had been a dream.

She knew she was still tired, though. As her heart rate slowed back to normal, Myka felt sleep climb over her again, and her eyelids grew heavy. She laid back down and fell back asleep.

*******************

She sat at breakfast the next morning, eating her hashbrowns. She swallowed and turned to Katina. "Was there a claiming last night?"

"A claiming? No. Who is there left to claim?"

"So Hermes didn't claim Helena last night?"

Katina frowned. "No. Why would you think he did?"

Myka shook her head. "Just a weird dream."

"Like a dream dream or a prophecy dream?"

Myka didn't want to say and have the dream become a big deal. She was still scared of the idea that she had talked to a real god. "It had purple cows and my middle school in it."

Katina laughed. "So not a prophecy dream. Gotcha."

********************

Monday afternoon placed Myka at the armory practicing with her sword. Katina, Jordan, and her each worked with a dummy target outside while Bailey experimented with Grant's preferred spear at another. They'd only been out there an hour when a knife spun in to jab Myka's dummy in the neck. Myka stopped and turned in the direction of the throw to see Helena walking towards her.

"Are you throwing knives at me again?" she asked.

Helena smiled. "Just the one. It's more fun than a simple hello." Myka rolled her eyes. "Want to spar?"

"You don't have your sword," Myka pointed out.

"Have you never sparred with knives before?" Helena twirled one in her hand. "I assure you, I won't need my sword."

Myka agreed, feeling awkward about swinging at someone who didn't have the same length of blade. She quickly learned, though, a sword didn't have a natural advantage over a knife. In fact, Myka was at a distinct disadvantage as Helena danced in and out with her knives. Helena would dart in and tap Myka in her armor before she could block. Helena tapped her once in helmet, too which made Myka huff. She pushed herself to be quicker, but Helena was fighting with a knife in both hands. It was more than she could keep track of.

Helena tumbled underneath Myka's swing instead of side-stepping or blocking. What a show-off. The somersault knocked a ink pen out from Helena's pocket, but she didn't pause to pick it up. Myka swung again and Helena deflected it with one knife and tapped her shoulder with the other.

"Struck again," she gloated. Myka tried to push the frustration away so she could focus. Helena swung and Myka blocked it and held the block so Helena couldn't free her knife. Helena twisted and used her other hand to trap Myka's wrist and knock her sword away. Myka dropped her shoulders, disheartened, and moved to pick it up. Helena stepped in her way. Myka stepped back and moved the other way to grab it, but Helena blocked her again.

"What are you doing?" Myka asked.

"Well, a monster won't pause a fight for you to retrieve your sword. Why should I?" Helena lunged, and Myka jumped out of the way. She had to keep bouncing and moving on her toes because Helena wouldn't let her relax. Myka realized she'll have to lead Helena far enough from her sword to allow Myka to make a dash for it.

"There you go," Helena said when Myka jumped from one knife and ducked the other in immediate succession. Then Myka tripped over nothing and fell to her side. She groaned. This always seemed to happen to her at the worst times.

Helena laughed at her clumsiness. "Better get up quick."

Myka glared and then squinted as Helena ran forward and the sun glinted off the pen in her pocket. Myka rolled when Helena jabbed down at her and pushed herself up as Helena recovered. She stumbled backwards and almost fell again before she regained her balance on her feet. The sun reflected off Helena's knives and pen again. Seriously for someone who wasn't wearing armor, she was sure blinding in the sun.

Myka stepped around to get out of the angle of the glare. She focused again on dodging knife blows and designing a path to retrieve her sword, but an idle thought sidetracked her. When did Helena pick up her pen? How did it get back in her pocket? It was a little detail that nagged at her even as Helena advanced on her again.

And Myka's plan wasn't working. Every time she maneuvered Helena out of her way, three swings later, Helena would have reasserted herself firmly between Myka and her sword. If only her sword had been the real Riptide Katina had talked about. Her sword would've reappeared in her hand by now.

Myka's eyes widened. She hit Helena's forearm with her own to ward off another strike and hopped away. Myka's sword was mechanically collapsible like the magical sword Riptide. Didn't Katina say the real Riptide looked like a pen when it was collapsed?

Myka dodged again. New plan: grab Helena's pen. If Helena had Riptide, then Myka would have a sword to fight with again. If the pen was just a pen, well, then, she wouldn't be any worse off than she was right now.

Myka watched Helena's movements, trying to time a lunge for Helena's pocket. Myka had no experience at picking pockets, and she wasn't the most graceful tumbler. If she was tumbling to the ground, she was just falling. But she could snag a speeding dodgeball while falling, so surely she could snag a pen from a pocket, right?

There was the opening. Myka lunged, and since Helena wasn't expecting her to attack unarmed, she held out her arms to keep from accidentally stabbing Myka. It left her pocket even more exposed, and Myka successfully plucked out the pen, though she rolled painfully over her arm as she landed. She took a breath through the pain and then pushed herself up. Helena scoffed behind her.

"What on earth was that meant to accomplish?"

Myka searched for the button to spring out the sword, but there wasn't one. Was the pen really just a pen?

Helena circled around her. "Myka, you can't just stop. You have to get your sword."

But how could it be just a pen? Myka saw it fall out and then it was back in Helena's pocket. She pulled off the cap to double check and suddenly it transformed into a sword.

"Whoa!" So that's what a magical sword looked like.

Helena stood stunned. "What.. what did you do?" Myka didn't think she was talking about the pen-to-sword transformation. Helena's face sunk into a dark glare. "Give that back."

Myka felt too flushed from gaining the upper hand. She stepped back into a fighting stance. "Come get it."

"Give it back!" Helena dropped a knife and reached out with just her hand. Myka ducked back and wouldn't let her grab it.

"You gotta disarm me again."

"Myka, this isn't a game!"

"The monster wouldn't stop and hand over your sword. I stole it!" Myka bounced on her toes. She felt good now that she was armed again. She wanted to duel again. "Come get it back!"

Instead of picking up the knife she'd dropped, Helena flicked out a different one that had been tucked into her clothing somewhere. How many knives did she carry on her?

"Give it back now, Myka," Helena said lowly.

Myka danced forward and tapped a knife with the tip of the sword. "Disarm me first."

Helena lashed out. Myka barely had time to block it and then dodge the next slash. She was getting better at tracking two weapons at once, and boy did Riptide feel good to swing, but each block infuriated Helena more. Their weapons reverberated on a particularly loud collision, and Myka winced.

"Give me back my sword!" Helena demanded. Myka was shocked to see the beginning of tears in her eyes.

Her stomach sunk. She'd messed up. She had done something bad and messed up. She shouldn't have taken Helena's sword.

Myka dodged another swing. She was scared now about having this sword and making Helena so angry. When Helena swung again, she blocked it and then retreated. She was near her own sword now with Helena out of position to block her from grabbing it. When Helena pursued to attack again, Myka reared her arm back and flung Helena's sword far down the field. Then, she dashed the few steps to her own sword, plucked it off the ground, and spun around - to find the tip of Helena's sword at her throat.

Myka gasped. "Wh.. how? How'd you do that so fast?"

"Don't /ever/ take my sword again," Helena said. "Ever."

Grant rushed over. "What are you doing?" He grabbed Helena's wrist and pulled Myka away from the blade. Helena yanked her arm free. "What do you think you're doing?" Grant demanded.

"It wasn't her fault!" Myka said.

"We were only dueling," Helena said calmly. Though traces of fury still showed on her face.

"No, you were threatening another camper. That's not dueling anymore. Hey!" he yelled as Helena began to walk away. He latched onto her arm again. "Don't you walk away or teleport or whatever. You're going to see Chiron."

"Let go of me!" Helena slammed the hilt of her knife into his hand so he'd let go and began to run. Grant moved to run after her, but Bailey yelled out.

"Grant! Grant, look!"

Myka saw it, the gold mark hovering above Helena's head as she ran. "Helena! Helena, wait!" She charged after her. "Helena!"

Helena might have had some supernatural ability to pop across a field and back in two seconds, but in normal running, Myka was faster. She caught up to Helena and called out again, "Helena, wait! Stop."

Helena spun around. "I wasn't threatening you."

"Okay, I know."

"Or I was, but I only wanted my sword. I wasn't going to hurt you."

"Helena, I know," Myka said impatiently. "Now, aren't you going to look up?"

"What?"

"Look up!" Myka pointed, and finally, Helena looked up to see the winged shoe floating above her head.

"What..."

"You've been claimed!" Myka said with a soft giggle. "He claimed you. Hermes claimed you."

Helena stared up at the mark. "But.. why now?"

Myka stared up at the mark, too. She didn't know why Hermes had taken almost two days since her dream to make the claim. It seemed slow for a god. "I guess the gods really do like a spectacle."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of this installment! Sorry it was really just intro stuff about the camp and demigods and getting the kids claimed. I do have sequels in the works! :) I don't see them being posted before January, unfortunately, because I'm participating in NaNoWriMo and moving house, and then it's the holidays. But they are coming! And will bring a couple more Warehouse characters in like Claudia and Artie.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who read this! I hope you enjoyed it even a fraction of the amount I enjoyed writing it. (I'm really hooked on this setting now. It's a problem.)


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